On That Hot June Night

On that hot June night,

I awoke with a craving.

Stumbling blindly through the

pitch black hallway,

I arrived at my destination:

The refrigerator.

Pickles, cold hotdogs, and cookie dough

greeted me with enthusiasm.

Eating mindlessly until satisfied,

I closed the fridge and once again

found myself in darkness.

Like a zombie, I crept back to bed

and fell into a deep food coma.

In the morning I woke up

with the strangest taste in my mouth

and a lonely chocolate chip

hanging from my lower lip.


And THIS is the very lower lip it would be hanging off of if this poem were indeed true. I hope you like this charming photo…there’s plenty more stupid face photos where that came from.


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