without actually unveiling reality and blinding the world i will share with you that it's just past 3 am and i am being haunted by the ghosts of food i shouldn't have eaten.

usually i lay in bed and think about things i shouldn't have done and things i should try to avoid doing in the future and finally making my parole. i've got a place to stay in Yuma, Arizona but I don't know if anyone will hire someone with my record.

my aunt Cheryl suffered from a back injury when her chair at the call center suddenly collapsed underneath her 325 pound frame. she collects disability and sometimes turns a profit by selling her Medicare acquired Vicodins at street value. maybe Safeway would hire me as a courtesy clerk

yeah. when i'm laying in bed not sleeping i think about a lot of things. but just not any of those things. in all honesty, i don't have an aunt named Cheryl. neither of my parents had a sister. i don't have a sister.

this does not mean that i don't have a crackhead uncle named Greg who i met one time at my grandmother's funeral. based on his small stature and flat facial features, i was able to diagnose his underlying condition as 'fetal alcohol syndrome.' Grandpa Triple Ace isn't much taller than an Ompaloompa and towers over Uncle Greg. This is America, where besides Uncle Greg, most grown children eventually tower over their parents.

that said, i still wouldn't mind snacking on some Tum