Losercity, Friday night, 9:00P.m.

I come inside the house, opening the door with no more excitement than I would have opening a dusty tomb, actually, no that sounds way better than being in your proximity right now. Whatever, I make my way to the fridge, grab some cheese and milk, chomp on it, and put the empty package back inside the fridge, then I sit down the couch with my legs open, grab the control and watch some TV, all of this without even looking at you

"Man, what an awful day."

I say, but it doesn't look like I'm talking to you, I am, in fact, not trying to.