Don't you just hate when your spaghetti falls out your pocket?
Like, it's just so tragic, man.
It just makes a mess everywhere and then you can't save it for later anymore, so you're forced to eat it wherever it fell, like a Neanderthal. Because you don't want to be a jackass and just litter by leaving your fallen spaghetti there.
What makes it all the more tragic is the fact that you more than likely went the whole day thinking about how you're going to devour it later, then it just FALLS.
It's just not right. One if the worst feelings, ever.
Spaghetti is meant for pockets. Not floors. Not chairs. Not on other people.
That's like spaghetti handling 101.
YOU ARE READING
Nosy Little Fucker Aren't You
De TodoMY VERY OWN RANTING BOOK! THE PLACE I GO TO TO VENT ABOUT BULLSHIT I SEE AND GO THROUGH ON A DAILY BASIS. BE IT THROUGH LIFE, WATTPAD, RADISH, PROSE, WE FUCKING HEART IT, IMGUR, AND OTHER SHIT THAT I SHOULDN'T WASTE SO MUCH TIME ON :)
