I often skip lunch to save money. To curb my appetite I take some weird pills. The former worker monkey that occupied my desk left two large bottles behind. They're full of all sorts of natural stuff but that's all just a front for the ephedrine. They make me hyper like a little kid that chugged a 3 liter of Jolt Cola. Except that I don't foam at the mouth or yip like a poodle. The end result is that I save no money because the gritty pills give me an insatiable appetite for alcohol, which usually costs as much or more that the food I would've eaten.

So that's what I did yesterday. I got home around six and had most of the twelve pack knocked off by eight. Empty stomach, fast drinking... you can see where this is leading. I did what any normal person in that situation would do. That's right, I fried a steak in butter. I didn't bother with garlic or onions or A1 or any fancy crap like that. Nope, just a half a stick of butter, a blanket of salt, and maybe some black pepper, I don't remember. It was a nice, thick cut. It wasn't long before I gave up on the utensils and starting ripping the flesh from the T-bone with my teeth. I sucked on the fat and licked my plate. Afterwards I even wiped my face with some dirty laundry. Mom would be proud.

I slept well for the first night in a week. 10:28 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm