Eh, Sure?

Good morning,

It’s 6:03 AM on the East Coast. The birds are chirping and flitting around, no doubt cussing each other out for being so goddamn loud first thing in the morning. “I haven’t slept in six weeks because of your chirping, Reginald!” Because robins should have the name “Reginald”. Somewhere, kids are groaning about their finals and the approaching “June” months, while their parents are sitting somewhere day drinking — no MORNING drinking because they don’t know what the fuck to do with these little shits. The kids are probably dreaming of gaming and eating candy all day. Those worlds will never collide…

Meanwhile, writers, artists, musicians… All staring out the window, trying to grab inspiration from somewhere when their old, babydoll-headed Sid monster ideas from the back of their brain closet rear’s it’s one-eyed head and starts speaking in a demonic language all its own and that’s when they hear it, like a drunken frat boy who’s had too much tequila… “You know what would be a great idea?” And then we listen… We listen to those great ideas… We know they’re not great but maybe, we could make them great….. Maybe we have that ability. So we nod, and pony up — “Eh, sure?” and the creepy babydoll idea grins a toothless grin and sinks its missing eyed cranium back into its hole, cackling like a toddler on pop rocks.

Wonder what deal we’ve signed today…

It’s 6:17… fuck, I gotta work… Babydoll ideas don’t pay for themselves… well not yet…

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