I just spent the entire duration of my trip home from work (6.5 miles, 22.75 minutes, respectively) deciding whether or not I should pull over into the nearest grocery store and purchase a bag of chips. I do not know why I desired those triangle-shaped taste assassins, but I wanted some Doritos. Bad. Now, I didn’t need the chips, and I certainly could have survived without them, but it seemed, at least for a moment, that no other food could substitute for the gift of deliciousness that is promised by a bag of spicy cheddar chips. I wasn’t even hungry. Obviously I decided not to cave into my crispy temptations, as I just went home and looked thru my barren cupboards for some alternative, only to find none. At least I had something to think about on my ride home, I guess.
Anyway, has anyone noticed that old Incubus sounds strangely like early Red Hot Chili Peppers meets Primus? I noticed that today. Damn that’s eerie. I’m gonna go find some chips.
In the morning, don’t say you love me, cause I’ll only kick you out of the door