So, in a room filled with Mexican cigarette smoke and half-empty styrofoam cups of cold coffee, I started.

Yesterday’s hot chocolate is trying to be today’s candy bar.

So what?

The error was noted in the margin with the other mistakes.

Pale blue paint tried (and failed) to cover the hairline cracks on the wall.

I didn’t leave the house planning to purchase a Dom DeLuise costume, sneak onto Burt Reynold’s property, and try to tattoo my picture on Burt’s back - but these things happen.

I’m more awake than I should be.

I sit here precisely, specifically.

The truth was, he was lying.

Without a doubt, she was the sultriest fry cook in Minnesota- maybe the sultriest fry cook in all of the Great Lakes States- but she couldn’t work a toaster.