A can sense a demise coming. It is all becoming quite a bit hard, not just the blogging, but life in general. I went from the top to the bottom quite quick. And it all comes from this shit called growing up.

A serious blog from Tizzle? .Yeah i guess it is.

All fucked up on coors light and the fine herb ( jack herrer) we smoked, my friends and i began talking for a good hour about the high school days. Good fucking stories i tell you, What a good time. Nothing will compare.

Then i talked about my first job with these kids i used to work with. We'd eat all the supermarkets food, throw the fruits at each other, play hockey, break fluoresent lightbalbs, just ordinary work shit and get fucking paid. We would fry snickers, hide in the freezers, and get fucking paid. Just to chill with yor friends having a good time with a little work mixed in. Now i work in a fucking bank. Not many memories ill have there. I went from a job of fun and hanging out to a bank. A job where people tell me to fuck my mother, eat shit, and that im a child molester and i also fuck the occasional animal. That is where i ended up.

Then i passes by a baseball field with these kids playing. There was this kid hitting and i could just tell he sucked. I used to own baseball. Literally, i was a beast and i just wanted to help this kid a little so hed hit the ball and not strike out. Plus i was brought back to the days when i was young playing sports and when i played hockey my dad would buy me a pretzel after. Or when he gave me a dollar for every hit i had. Good times. Now, i play no sports. The occossional pick up football games have ended. The ones where you get everyone you know to meet at a field and you just have great fuckin football. Its all gone.

Why do the best times need to gone so quick?