Someone once asked me if I had ever considered donating melatonin, presumably the way others donate plasma. I’ll admit I *am* pretty mellow (and whether or not this continued mellowness stems from the TON of prozac shoved down my throat during my formative teenage years is probably a story for another day.) You know how people jump at the movies during the **BOO** parts? I don’t do that. My blood pressure is so low, doctors think I’m DEAD. I make the cat seem stressed out. And so on.
Therefore, it tends to surprise people that I have a short-fused, crazy pollack temper. Let me show you it:
Imagine the calmest calm in a temple. A silence that makes a whisper seem deafening. Motion, then complete inactivity. Smoke exhaled from a sigh, curling lazily in still air. Lips still pursed in a circle. One blink. Two. There is a serene, moon-lit lake. Not a ripple disturbs its surface. A breeze slowly moves through the surrounding trees and then-
AN EVIL HELLSPAWN BREAKS THE SURFACE SPEWING WATER AND GORE 400 FEET IN THE AIR!! ROWS AND ROWS OF NEEDLE TEETH DRIP RAZORS!! ITS 20 ARMS ARE EACH BRANDISHING CHAINSAWS!! THE LAKE TURNS TO BOILING MOLTEN LAVA!! RED IS THE ONLY COLOR IN THE WORLD!! THE RIOT OF NOISE ELEVATES THE HELLSPAWN’S HEATRATE UNTIL ITS HEAD EXPLODES!
And from there it just gets worse. It’s simply a circumstance of birth. I can't help it. Swear. Anywho, my lunatic anger is the main reason I can’t...
...watch football. Someone keep me posted?
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