what's johnny doin out on a tuesday night (johnny can't read, johnny can't write)

anyway, so i went to school with this fuckin' yahoo, johnny markstram. he was like john bender if john bender had been stupid. total burnout, used to light his own hair of fire with the bunsen bruners in class to get attention. only had one friend (who was really more of an aquantence than a friend) and that was darren.

so a while back i'm back in my old town, run into darren, we bullshit, he's like some big deal day-trader now, asked about johnny. says johnny actually did well for a few years and then blow got out of his control, so now he lives in a trailor park, drinks shlitz malt liquor all the time, yells too much at his wife and kids.

he has a fruitless crate-loading job that leaves him feeling empty at the end of the day. he eats meatloaf sandwiches for lunch every day and smokes a pack a day, more.

his wife is a trite little bitch who wears black eyes wherever she goes (a christmas gift from johnny) and talks non-stop about evade and survive animal tactics from the discovery channel on their 32" pawnshop television with pirated cable hooked up by the cokehead hacker (16 years old) next door.

she thinks about dying every day.

you know that song by rockers hi-fi, "what a life". yeah, that reminds me of them.

2003-10-12 | 7:54 p.m.
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