The savory smell of your benediction mixed with the grotesque amount of self loathing you bring to the table, topped with laughter and stupidity. Put you in the freezer, serve you on the rocks. Shake the shit out of you.. we're still shaking, you're so full of it. Strap you to the windshield, we're talkin' drive thru darling. Stuff your mouth full of cotton let you dry those tears. The chitter chatter of the demons whom rest gently on your collar bone and the recognizable smell of your pity party bullshit. Hot and fresh, right out the oven, baked out of recognition makes this a helluva lot easier then any sort of shuffle. You are a predictable omelet left on the counter, fermenting but still looking appetizing in the fit of a severe case of hunger, but no longer will I let the uproar growl of a hunger within effect the food poisoning that you embody. I rather starve, then eat your crap. I've been force feeding the taste to think of something much more filling but sadly I've decided to diet, cut you out. No more fast past romance, simple long haul, let the stuff stir, slow cooker meal has got me feeling very content. Your dine and dash attitude towards your beloved is upsetting, does she know your using coupons on her services?