There’s an obese mini person that lives inside of me. His name is Gus. He spends much of his life being a hateful bastard. I’m not sure why it’s a man but he looks like Jack Black with spiky orange hair and about 200 extra pounds. He’s fairly tolerable when he isn’t screaming obscenities at me for being under fed. Ha. You’re 600 micro-pounds and all you can do is roll around. I think you’re gonna be alright buddy.

Ouch. He just kicked my ulcer and cursed. I gotta go eat, I’ll be right back…

Sorry about that. Gus is asleep now so I promise there wont be any more rude interruptions. Gus controls a lot of my life. He’s always craving absurd things like deep fried breaded pickles and cottage cheese on salted cucumbers. I’m unemployed and have no car so its hard for me to cater to his every need. That’s when the tantrums start, and recently I’ve developed a ulcer from all the hell he’s raised. But hey, to look on the bright side, eventually its going to have to burst and therefore blow up mini-fat-bastard. I hope.

Just the other day, Gus was in a exceptionally great mood and decided to beseech for Lucky Charms. Instantaneously I felt a stupendous sense of relief. I have Lucky Charms! I sprinted to the kitchen and hastily poured a bowl. I could almost taste the victory as I dug in. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Uh… wait a minute, that’s one too many crunches. Where are all the marshmallows?

Devastation floods the room. … Gus is screaming. … There are four marshmallows in this bowl. … Gus is cursing. … An entire brimming bowl and I find only pellets? … Gus is rolling and kicking… What kind of company calls their cereal f ing lucky charms and fails to put any in the f ing box?

I… I mean Gus is outraged. We…He cried for hours. After recovering, I’ve come to realize that not even the famed General Mills company is safe from our rapidly dwindling economy. Now I wont go as far as to say that I think they are actually cutting back on how many marshmallows they dispense per bag of not-so-sugary pellets. Rather, I believe they must have laid off a multitude of well paid, efficient employees to hire undeserving idiots that will work for much less. Not unlike the majority of all other American companies. Now Gus’s fat-ass third cousin is probably working the assembly line and eating all the marshmallows that were intended for my bag. His whole family is truly just a nuisance to our entire nation. And my barren cereal bowl.

Hey Obama, here’s some change I can believe in; Give me some damn marshmallows.

XoXo;
Rachel