Strong Bad (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crapfully) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mylittlejamjar2015-06-28 12:24 pm
crapfully) wrote in mylittlejamjar2015-06-28 12:24 pm
a probablo (text)
You ever ask yourself why the crap you're still here? Because I do. Seems like just about everybody I fell into caring about got a golden ticket back home in the last few weeks, leaving me here. To carry on the awesomeness by my lonesome.
And with very little in the way of morality-minded compadres to hold me back, I thought about re-igniting a reign of terror the likes of which you've never seen before. But in my case, 'terror' would just mean rolling barrels in the middle of the walkway or tracking mud places. I mean...I'm just about back to square one with the whole making friends thing, so it's like: where do I go from here?
It's kinda like a video game. Or a board game. That ridiculous game of Life where I keep rolling the janitor piece---that calls for a good ol' table flipping. So you've got the good guy path, the bad guy path, I beat both and now I'm starting over again. And I never thought it'd come to this, I gotta say: the friend path's looking better. I wouldn't miss everybody this much if it didn't mean something to me, I guess.
Maybe I don't know y'all as well as I should, but I do know I'm not the only one back on Level 1. And there's nothing sadder than a bunch of Strong Sads moping around. Uh. Not that I was doing that or anything. So---y'all have got no reason to trust me, or even begin to like me, but. My door's open. Especially if you like wrestling, rock, video games, baking, or some combination of the above. Or I'll try just about anything at this point.
...except talking. My lips are sealed 'til we do something about this poison joke thing. Don't ask.
And with very little in the way of morality-minded compadres to hold me back, I thought about re-igniting a reign of terror the likes of which you've never seen before. But in my case, 'terror' would just mean rolling barrels in the middle of the walkway or tracking mud places. I mean...I'm just about back to square one with the whole making friends thing, so it's like: where do I go from here?
It's kinda like a video game. Or a board game. That ridiculous game of Life where I keep rolling the janitor piece---that calls for a good ol' table flipping. So you've got the good guy path, the bad guy path, I beat both and now I'm starting over again. And I never thought it'd come to this, I gotta say: the friend path's looking better. I wouldn't miss everybody this much if it didn't mean something to me, I guess.
Maybe I don't know y'all as well as I should, but I do know I'm not the only one back on Level 1. And there's nothing sadder than a bunch of Strong Sads moping around. Uh. Not that I was doing that or anything. So---y'all have got no reason to trust me, or even begin to like me, but. My door's open. Especially if you like wrestling, rock, video games, baking, or some combination of the above. Or I'll try just about anything at this point.
...except talking. My lips are sealed 'til we do something about this poison joke thing. Don't ask.
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No, just older brothers that are fairly talented in that area. My father wouldn't know music if it bit him.
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