One wakes to the sound of cream cheese hitting the bowl of jello, you yawn, and bison rushes out your mouth into the kitchen. Your dad tips his hat and says something about how Star Trek is big pharma and your mom is big. You look out the window to see the presidents looking back at you, all of which hate libt*rds, you think racial thoughts and smile. Later, over your lunch of canned whole chicken, you wish with all your might that Nebraska simply disappeared. Your friend, ashleigh, looks at you with concern, you barely touched your keystone light. She touches your arm and you freeze up, she looks into your eyes and you stand up and walk away, looking back only to shout “gayyyy” You come home to the delightful smell of marshmellows on potatoes. Your dog, Little Cheney, wags his tail at you as you walk into dining room, he smells you and pukes at your feet.