The Eggs of Dementia

I woke up later that night with a washcloth on my forehead, lying in my bed at home. Per my mom, I had passed out. Well, no shit, you worthless sack of balls. I ripped the cloth off my head and threw it at my dresser, knocking down some chotchkies again. Funny how I hadn’t dreamed during that time; I guess the good shit only happened in the depths of night and not in the depths of my total embarrassment and meltdown. I decided to cut loose for the remainder of the day, propping my MacBook on my chest and watching My Little Pony. My chest was burning but I still managed to fall asleep and enter the Plane of Torment.