"Don't Say Maybe" by Misti Rainwater-Lites


To answer your question I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m in America, motherfucker. QVC. Dairy Queen. Home Depot. And so forth. To be specific I’m in my grandmother’s den eating stale caramel popcorn out of one of those Christmas buckets. I’m watching something on the big-ass television but I couldn’t tell you at gunpoint what it is. I bitch about America a lot like everyone else on social media but I don’t know of any other place on this planet where you can get chicken and waffles, crack and sex at two a.m. I don’t have any of those things, I don’t want any of those things, but theoretically those things could be mine for the having.

Everyone says Oh Get Off Your Ass Already Get A Job. Walmart is always hiring. Family Dollar? You know it. The thing is, the status quo doesn’t make my dick hard. I’m not trying to impress the world with a BMW and a trailer house and a hot tub. I guess that makes me a lazy piece of shit.

In school people assumed I was retarded. That’s how little I contributed to the discussions. But if you think about it really hard my way makes the most sense. Chicks still send their panties to Charles Manson in prison. Millions chomp up any amount of shit Disney Pixar pukes up. Wolverine this. Walking Dead that. Diabetes. Chlamydia. Eddie Money is still alive. Prince is dead. There’s no sense or justice in anything. So taking it easy like my boys The Eagles feels pretty damn authentic to me.