I don’t know why I'm so plagued by regrets from my vocal history. It seems dreadfully unfair, and I'm not sure what I've done to deserve these demons.
When I was 14, I WAS a wrestling superstar. I was “Blade” in my own wrestling federation, FWC. But I'm 27 now, and let's face it, I'll probably never wear a gold belt.
What sort of name is Court anyway? I mean, do ruffians play that uncouth game of basketball on you? Do they? I mean come on, that's a stupid name.
I deserve a job. I'll take literally any job. Although I might be abusing the already abused word "literally" there, because what I mean is "not just ANY job."
I don't just look at my dog with fury because that would be cliché; rather, I tend to give her a sad, betrayed look, with a hint of intense bloody vengeance.
"Your mom" has always been a fairly standard insult, but when it's consistently leveled at you by the cool kids in middle school, it's time to shake up the game.