Time to change
my life is going nowhere
I've got to change the air around my head.

Where am I?
sitting on a couch
inside my parent's living room living dead.

My body's aching to move
It just feels so damn sluggish
I haven't used it well in twenty years.

My legs are aching to groove
dancing to that crazy beat
my feet are leading me away from tears.

I've gotta go. I've gotta go
I've gotta see my future in the world

There's no way I'm gonna see my life
the yarn that makes my eyes is unfurled

frogged.

Wordcount: 100
Note to self: It kind of sounds like a song. Actually, it's probably better as a song.

The heat hung in the air like a blanket of after-sex musk. It was heavy, it was sticky, and it was uncomfortable. Marta sat on her sticky leather couch, hating her television. Sure, all she had to do was stand up, turn the TV off, and walk away. She couldn't though.

"God, I hate Jay London. Why do people like him? It's the same damn jokes." Just watching the man made her want to throw up all over herself. Then eat the vomit off of her shirt and throw up all over again. Then again, it wasn't like she was any better. This ass was on TV, and here Marta was, too lazy to get off her ass and change the damn channel. His jokes are full of puns. Not good puns. Shit puns. And Marta hated herself for watching it. "At least it'll be over soon, and then we can get back to the comics that actually have a chance at winning Last Comic Standing. Damn you Last Comic Standing for even putting that lazy ass comic who only writes puns back on TV. Damn you!

Wordcount: 187
Note to anyone reading this: Jay London sucks ass.