The taste of Sunday is a sugar-rush carb-fest orgy rolling about and panting on the tongue. My taste buds feel degraded yet perversely contented; my urgent need for caffeine is being drip-fed into my face to wash away any regret.
I am lazy today. Well, not just today but this is peak laziness. It is sloth transformed into an art form. It is a thing of kinetically-challenged beauty. I’m not even bothering to open my eyes the whole way. Admittedly this means I have to tilt my head back ridiculously far when I need to navigate the living room and locate the lavatory but I used to train for such eventualities when I was a youth by smoking copious amounts of weed.
I’m no longer a youth. I’m an old. Time is such a wanker.
This writing’s unlikely to enlighten – assonance. Sinusitis is causing a slight fuzzy buzzy noise in my ears – dissonance. Ay Ay Ay Ay Moosey – a song by Modern Romance.
And that’s all the words for today.