I’m far from perfect. I fuck up, make mistakes. And I’m not always easy to be around. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, you should just give up now because it actually doesn’t get a whole lot better. I’m in a Panda Express dumpster right now and it’s still the best day I’ve had all week.
Being in a relationship means picking your partner up when they’re down, sticking together through thick and thin. After all, everyone has good days and bad days. The only problem: for you, picking kung pao chicken out of your girlfriend’s hair is probably as low as it gets. For me, this is just about the best birthday I’ve ever had.
It just so happens that my lows are lower than the average person’s lows and my highs…well, they’re also surprisingly lower than the average person’s lows. That’s just my lot in life. Some say it’s bad luck, others say it’s a combination of alcohol, drugs, gambling, character flaws, horrible decision making, and being a Gemini.
Take yesterday for example. After a Four Loko breakfast, I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment and spent the afternoon wandering an Applebee’s parking lot, crying and occasionally vomiting until my son found me and drove me home. You must have been thinking that this is what rock bottom looks like, and you’re sort of right…usually, I at least have the decency to get wasted in the parking of a Chili’s or TGI Friday’s.
Just how bad does it get? Well, I get cranky before I have my morning coffee. My therapists say I’m pathologically jealous. Oh, and I have a massive back tattoo that just says “Mountain Dew: Code Red.” This is a stolen car. Also, Brendan Fraser has a restraining order against me.
At least one of my shoes is wet at all times. I never know how or why, it’s just the way it is.
So I can’t blame you if you want out. That’s why I’m warning you now. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, you better get the hell out of here before this MDMA wears off.