A poem for me part 2.

" They told me that to make her fall in love
I had to make her laugh
But every time she laughs
I'm the one who falls in love."

Okay, I lied, here's part two of my poem, it's practically a whole other masterpiece. Ahem.

Doof doof doof doof
doofdadidoof
*pause
doof doof doof doof
doof doooooof doof
dadoof.

After some serious thinking, I've come to the conclusion that when old people tell you story they've already told you before, they want you to think they're senile. Old people know what they've told you and do this with the sole intent on making you go through something you don't have to. I realized this when "volunteering" at St. Vinnie's the other day when a mate of mine (he's like in his mid 50's) told me a story I've already heard him tell but only this time, it was with more pauses as if he was trying to contain his laughter. I believe this to be a secret the world wishes to keep and is a well put-together ruse to keep our expectations of the elderly to a minimum. It happened half a dozen times before I caught on and now I'm afraid that if I spring it on them they'll get their elderly friends to tell me so many stories again and again that I might contemplate suicide, they're sneaky like that. Can't wait til I'm old and get to say the same things over and over again, also I would like to poop myself and tell someone else to deal with it, that would make like, my entire life.

I don't like Carl Cox.