Bacon Grease

i woke up with a headache. too many pills, too many drinks. oh well, here goes another day for old billy boy. i could smell the bacon creeping up through the floor boards so i knew that Shannon was up to no good in the kitchen. how many days in a row did i have to eat bacon grease sandwiches? i knew she had been making them at least once a day for the last two months. i had the bowels to prove it.

i looked like a zombie as i shaved before the mirror. i thought about sliding the razor across my Adam's Apple. would Shannon even care if she found me face down in a pool of blood on the bathroom tiles? she would probably go back to the kitchen and finish making bacon grease sandwiches. once the stink became too much to bare, then she may call the authorities, or her bitch mother, Elanor.
it's thoughts like these that consume me. its thoughts like these that make up my day. sometimes though i have other thoughts... like this one - i sometimes think about what it would be like to live in the arctic. maybe i would have animal friends and they would show me their animal ways. they would teach me the secrets locked within their arctic world. they would arrange a marriage between me and a female penguin. the union wouldn't last long. we would be expected to have children by the other arctic creatures, as it is their law and custom. however, because the reproductive mating routine wouldn't work between us, i would be banished from the arctic. this in turn would force me back into the bacon greased arms of Shannon.
i suppose that some things are better left up to the imagination. i suppose i will walk downstairs, look Shannon in the eyes, and smile as i eat her bacon grease... all of her beautiful fucking bacon grease.