George Clooney will always love you. You should go and visit him. Go now and take some flowers. He would love to see you at his front door, no matter what time of night it is.
Your whole life has been leading up to this moment that you should have been focusing on rather than reading this. Never mind. It wasn’t that important anyway. Back to the grind.
Put your dreams in The Hopeless Box.
You were never a very good skateboarder.
Whoever told you that singing was your talent does not know the meaning of the word talent. Or the meaning of the word singing.
You are free to do what you want to do. Sure breathing a 20% oxygen mix is for chumps. Kick it up to 50%. See how free you are then. Free? I meant flammable.
The soundtrack to you life is a long low moan.
Wear more dresses. Wear as many as you can at the same time.
This is the last day that the sun will rise. I hope you have prepared your stores and your weapons.
10,000 hours of masturbation will not make you good at the trombone nor the banjo no matter what you may have imagined someone didn’t tell you.
You will be the next victim of The Eye Collector. It does exactly what you think it does.
You are the before segment of an infomercial. On a good day.
The SleepCoat League Presents: 