nanowrimo and writing nanowrimo, panicking 11:22 pm
Well it seems NaNoWriMo starts in about 40 minutes and I have bugger all planned, I wonder much progress I can make with random idea generators, copious amounts of alcohol, and intense hope?
I shall try to keep this thing updated with my progress every other day, but the humiliation may become too great for me to handle and I might fall quiet.
The following nonsense is a not at all exaggerated account of my thought process earlier today when I was in Subway.
Oh dear it appears to have happened again, those dark green bastards are probably laughing at the thought of what is to come right this second, not that chilli peppers are generally known for thinking of course. But the point stands, there are far too many jalapeños on this sandwich and the guy that serves me can’t seem to understand the word “less than last time” I can’t complain of course because what if some awful thing happened to him, for him to think this monstrous mass of green hell-fire is an appropriate amount for consumption? For all I know he suffered some form of trauma and stuffing immense amounts of jalapeños in his mouth is how he deals with it, oh god I’m awful for even thinking about complaining. I better just pay for my sandwich and sit down t…SHIT! I ordered a fucking footlong didn’t I? Shit shit shit, why am I taking this? Why don’t I get back up from this table and give half back, that’s a thing people do right? But it does look awfully tasty…Maybe it won’t be all that spicy right? And I do have a drink here, that should help somewhat I think…
Okay okay I’m almost halfway done, the hardest part is over and I’m not sweating all that much, just the home-stretch now. I bet that fuckwit who served me has never even been traumatised, I bet he doesn’t even need to work here he just does it because he gains some sick enjoyment from watching people sweat, he probably fucking hand-glides or something in his spare time. Shit shitting cockballs I’m full, I’m fairly sure I no longer have a mouth and I’m only half-way done, I wonder if anyone in here would mind if I threw up?
So, right, okay, I’ve got this just the very end of the sandwich left. I think I may have thrown up in my mouth a few moment ago but I’ve still got this, that traumatised, hand-gliding, alien son-of-a-bitch behind the counter isn’t going to get the better of me I’ll wipe that smug look off of those slimy eye-stalks. Wait I…I can’t see any more filling at the end there’s no ham, no pepperoni, no salad…Just a dark green mass, cunting hell there must be five fucking jalapeños down there, this can’t count as part of the sandwich right? No one would hate me for throwing it away, oh but that’s what he wants isn’t it? That fucking alien wants to beat me so he can take down the rest of us, if I don’t finish this sandwich our entire society will collapse! Just go for it Alex, just shove it into your mouth and show that mother fucker who is the boss.
Wohkay time to leave, but first is this a burp or me throwing up…good, good, it was just a burp time to walk out of here proud. Oh but I brought a cookie as well I should really eat that, I mean it’s nowhere near as filling as a sandwich right? I won’t regret this.
I regret everything.
I may have been a tad delusional towards the end, as I’m fairly sure there are no aliens serving at Subway.
