Sometimes I'm so hungry that I get irrational. Yesterday, for example. I was thinking about how much I hate Peter Piper. God I hate that man. So, so, much. Because he's got all these pickled peppers and I've got nothing. Have you seen the Muffin Man? No I haven't seen the muffin man, but when I do see him, I'll punch him and take all his muffins. And the Gingerbread man can't possibly run that fast, little prick. Then I'll stare at my toes and wonder which little pig it was that had roast beef so that I can steal it from him. Toes don't even have mouths and they've got more food than I have. Snow White! Are you finished with that apple? Oh she's asleep. I'll be having that then.
Then I'll go to the kitchen and eat some toast and be fine again.
I am going to write a story of some variety, long or short, fictitious or factual, every single day for a year. Wish me luck.
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