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Life is like a box of chocolates. If you leave it sitting on your patio it will get all melty and gross and you cant ever really get it cleaned up and then the ants come and they are a PAIN in the ass and how the hell do they get all the way up to the middle of the second floor balcony anyway do they really make hives in the cracks of the concrete because if so those are some strong ass ants and you would probably see them strutting around with barbells and little bicycle pants and oiled pectorals or whatever passes for pectorals in myrmecological circles and all I ever see are those sissy little tiny black sugar ants that scatter when you blow on them and run to wherever the hell it is that insects GO which is probably some kind of insect mixer party where they all shuffle around in nervous circles pretending to dance with one another but secretly wondering if they could get laid by the long legged girl without her eating their heads when it was over and where they REALLY want to be is up on my patio eating the sugar out of my melted symbolic life. Which is what I tell people when they catch me staring at bugs.
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