The number 8, a kettle and some common household bleach....
Dear Diary,
I hate my superpower. It's lame. No-one has come out and said it, but I can see it in their eyes, moreover read it in the ether. Their non-accusing stares are contrary to what is beating in their souls. Being a plain psychic is pretty weak.
Whoopie - I can sense what people may do. Yahoo - I get flashes from the future. Big fucking deal. Can I one-inch punch a rhino through a sherman tank ? No. Can I spray a train carriage with hot blue arcs of electric death, raining from my fingertips ? No. Can I make a wrestlers head make that cool -CRACK-POP- noise, as his head explodes, merely with a cough ? Not even close. Not even the power of fricking flight man.
I just get to kick around and 'sense' if shit is going bad, or about to. What's worse is the crew I hang around with have all been giving me this, 'Maybe you could try fitting in a bit more' bullshit. I swear to god if one more motherfucker suggest's I maybe get a sequinned turban or grow a pencil thin moustache, I'll kick their goddamned throat.
Not that I probably could. Max (oh sorry, MAX-I-MUS) would just keep laughing while I splinter my ankle bone on his thorax, unmoved in his archaic 'tea pot' stance. Fuck, I mean the guy is as dumb as a spoonful of shit with a sex drive that can't even get past larval stage and yet scores nightly.
Fucker. That's the problem when your superskill is an abstract, it's harder to score chicks.
I hate my superpower. It's lame. No-one has come out and said it, but I can see it in their eyes, moreover read it in the ether. Their non-accusing stares are contrary to what is beating in their souls. Being a plain psychic is pretty weak.
Whoopie - I can sense what people may do. Yahoo - I get flashes from the future. Big fucking deal. Can I one-inch punch a rhino through a sherman tank ? No. Can I spray a train carriage with hot blue arcs of electric death, raining from my fingertips ? No. Can I make a wrestlers head make that cool -CRACK-POP- noise, as his head explodes, merely with a cough ? Not even close. Not even the power of fricking flight man.
I just get to kick around and 'sense' if shit is going bad, or about to. What's worse is the crew I hang around with have all been giving me this, 'Maybe you could try fitting in a bit more' bullshit. I swear to god if one more motherfucker suggest's I maybe get a sequinned turban or grow a pencil thin moustache, I'll kick their goddamned throat.
Not that I probably could. Max (oh sorry, MAX-I-MUS) would just keep laughing while I splinter my ankle bone on his thorax, unmoved in his archaic 'tea pot' stance. Fuck, I mean the guy is as dumb as a spoonful of shit with a sex drive that can't even get past larval stage and yet scores nightly.
Fucker. That's the problem when your superskill is an abstract, it's harder to score chicks.