So anyway...
I get home at about 8:30 this morning (been gone a couple of days with Aaron, at his pad or Joe's in the ghetto, haven't really been eating except maybe a handful of generic M&M's and a bowl of Top Ramen) hungry as a mutherfucker, and I spot this whole fucking granola bar sitting right on top of the trashcan. You know, those hard kind that come two in a package? Well one was half eaten sitting out on the garbage, but the other one was in the package, fully untouched. So I think, "Fuck yeah, perfectly good fucking granola bar" right? So I pick it up and start to munch, walk into the living room where I see the box sitting on the ledge near the door. Now, this is normally where my mom puts shit she needs to take back to the store for some reason or another, so I run to the kitchen and spit out what's in my mouth and toss the half of a granola bar that's left back into the trashcan, hoping they didn't like find worms in it or something.
Grub on a plate of Wavy Lay's and ranch dressing instead. Least I know those Lay's were fresh - the package was unopened - and besides, what kind of worms would eat that toxically fat shit?
Well anyway, I asked my mom about the granola bars when she woke up, and she said they were fine, just sitting by the door so my sister would take them and put them in her trunk.
So I wasted a perfectly good granola bar. That shit was good, too. Strawberry-Banana.
Grub on a plate of Wavy Lay's and ranch dressing instead. Least I know those Lay's were fresh - the package was unopened - and besides, what kind of worms would eat that toxically fat shit?
Well anyway, I asked my mom about the granola bars when she woke up, and she said they were fine, just sitting by the door so my sister would take them and put them in her trunk.
So I wasted a perfectly good granola bar. That shit was good, too. Strawberry-Banana.