The scent of a hangover,
Coupled with the indignation of telemarketers.
In the middle of eating breakfast;
Someone might think I was just lying

On my bed.

But nevertheless, hunger was my driving force
To get out of that damn bed
With stains from the night before.
And a new friend.
Can't remember her name.

I really like brunettes.

Into the kitchen;
Blinding browns and broken silverware.
Trying, trying, trying.
To remember.

What the hell happened?

But I'm really hungry.
Where's the eggs?
What happened to my refrigerator?
Oh, there it is.
Wait.
I don't have any eggs.

I like cereal anyway.

Tucan Sam.
How are you this morning?
Has your rainforest been chopped down yet?
I hear there's only 2 percent of 'em left.
You're a lucky one.
Mr-I'm-on-a-cereal-box-because-I-just-so-happen-to-be-an-exotic-bird.

You aren't that special.
But goddamn, your cereal tastes good.
A shame I haven't any milk.
A shame indeed.

Goddamnit, where's my fork?
I mean spoon.
...
Oh, there it is.
Hi, spoon.

I wonder if there's any more beer in the fridge.