Candy Land Panagramic Message Service: Full Service Stops

Wake Up Mr. Mint Or Dear God The Gin Is Gone.

I awoke to the sound of glass breaking. The only reason I was upset was because of the delicate nature of my stomach at the moment. I knew one wrong move and last night's gin harvest, along with my peppermint chicken tacos from TacoHell, would come out. Why the fuck can't I get one non-mint flavored item? I feel like Midas but without any curses. I don't have a childhood. All I remember is this mint hellhole and serving bratty children life stories when their parents get divorced or they need confidence or some shit.




Rolling over proved to be more hazardous than I thought. The bottle I was nursing last night to forget that I'm in this shit hole, forever, also makes an effective arm cutter when you are trying to get out of bed and not puke. Yeah. One big happy Candy Land. There is no justice.

(via Nuglife)

After my morning Mint Beer, Day Old Mint Eggs, and a good cry, I watched the blood trickle down and felt...alive. I tentatively tasted it. Copper with bready undertones. It was incredible. I can't remember the last time I haven't had that sickly sweet mint taint.

I cut more to eat a meal that wasn't something scrounged from lollipop trees or family friendly gummy chicken.

Hours later, laying in a mess of my own blood and Mr. Mint Baby Batter™, I heard a knock at my door. I knew my next meal, or any meal, wouldn't have that foul taint ever again.