Trash.
[wow, so creative]
Oh, great! Meet Tommy Toast, the voice in my head that told me what to do for my wattpad username while holding a gun to my head! Didn't I lock you in a cage. In a magma chamber. In a volcano. In Hell.
[those never work, you know that tr-]
Don't say my name. I'm not keen on being tracked down and murdered.
[wouldn't be to bad]
You'd die to, Tom.
[right, right. those never work, you know tha- wait, what do I call you?]
We'll go with my old nickname, Will.
[okay, Will. what did you eat for dinner last night?]
It's still the same night.
[look again]
Great! If I go to sleep now I won't be able to get up. At this rate, I'll go through the entire soundtrack of Dear Evan Hanson. I mean, it's not like I can go read anything else on here, it's all trash, and if it's not I've finished it.
[good for you. hey, why do you use so many dash-a-majigers?]
I do not!
[last time I spoke you used two. I only spoke two sentences]
Whatever. We should end this trashy chapter soon, It's already twice as long is it needs to be.
[okay. goodbye readers! ill have this peasant working overtime to get you content, so be ready!]
Tommy, we don't have readers. The most we've gotten on one book is 8, and that's only because I talked about feminism in that.
[we don't have readers yet]
I'm ending this now.
[wait don't I still ha-]
[you used another dashy-thing]
Ugh!
YOU ARE READING
THE LIFE OF AN ADOLESCENT MEME-DUMP
RandomJust for posting the weird shit in my head