I am going to hell. For what? Choose from the constantly growing list of bad choices, ill-advised decisions, or one of the many shortcomings that make up my less than stellar character.
Am I even capable of normal human functioning? If goldfish is the definition of normal then, yes, I am most definitely functioning right around the level of a pet store goldfish smashed into a half-empty terrarium plastered with clearance: 50-70% off signs and buy 1, get 2 free sales
Shock. My utter shock and dismay is just about overwhelming.
I don't need a diagnosis from one of those online IQ tests to comprehend the level of my stupidity and uselessness.
Interestingly enough, it's pretty obvious.
Sobering experience doesn't begin to explain the sudden realization that I really am as stupid as I secretly suspected I was.
I've now adopted the possibility that my level of moronic stupidity is actually beyond any aspect of my comprehension as my new point of denial.
Denial is the ignorant moron's infinite bliss.
Infinite bliss sounds like a pretty little present just waiting to be frantically unwrapped so it can thoroughly disappoint its recipient.
That's right up my crumbling, decrepit little alley.
