Take a lesson...



Me = unemployed.




I still have a year left of people stressing me out by telling me I won't excel in life if I don't pay extra attention to detail that are actually quite minuscule and built-up.



I tattooed my prison number on my chest.



I'm not quite sure what these are. I'm certain it involves excess testostorone.



Have you seen my lawn lately? We don't do shit, and resultingly it is blanketed in weeds with a few patches of dirt. The lower the expectations, the harder it is to get let down.



The doctors are still trying to reshape the Jacobsins' kid's head. Ever since that, people just sort of stopped asking me to watch their kids.