ain’t no sharks on me

Diets are cruel things. Like Jesus in the desert you are tempted by Satanic food like pizza and Chipotle. I found my self today watching an Apple-Bees commercial thinking, for the first time sober, I really want to go to Apple-Bees. Luckily my will to become un-fat took over and I walked out of the room for a quick cry.

I spent my evening my dear friend Dr. L to the Enzos. We watched shark week, which for me is something I never watch alone. Not out of fear of a hungry 12 foot blood thirsty fish entering my landlocked house but because it will put me to sleep faster than the World Cup in 2006. One keen observation I made while watching shark weeks is that every shark, in the wild, has a posse. They have little fish, shark friends, little shark look-a-like fish that swim where ever they swim all the time. I watched a tiger shark swimming through the ocean with an entourage bigger than P-diddy’s, yet it wasn’t until I was feeling lonely that I understood what was really going on.

These sharks, like celebrities, are being followed by fish poparazi! The nerve, but it makes sense. Dr. L to the Enzo tryed to tell me it was a defense mechanism but I know the truth now these little fish are little reporters, fish-porters. After coming to this realization shark week now looked like TMZ, which I can’t stand so I don’t think I will be watching shark week anymore.

Thanks fish-porters. You ruined shark week for me. Assholes.

Take my love and read it, Amen.


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