So here’s the thing: Today my mother sent me a picture of me when I was 16 or 17 years old. It was some stupid glamour shot photo for high school or some shit, but the amazing part is what I looked like. I looked thin, happy and handsome, which leads to the question of “what the fuck happened?” OMG I look like a swollen city buss driver now! If I didn’t have all my teeth people would think I was homeless but with access to a dumpster full of processed meat. I felt like there should have been a caption under the picture that read “Jay, this is what you looked like when I was proud of you” When I woke up this morning, or afternoon if you want to be technical, I was half way in a good mood and thinking optimistically about my life and a future full of smiles and blow jobs, but that magic picture came through on my phone reminding me that the best years of my life are over and happiness is just an illusion for desperate eyes. I cried in the mirror for about twenty minutes as I cussed at my reflection for being worthless and a disappointment to the universe, then I realized it could be worse, at least I’m not depressed. On a separate note, I’m thinking pop tarts for dinner tonight.