Mom poisoned my sleep with sweets. She couldn't have poisoned me in my sleep because the sugar, two courses of it, kept me up. And because she loves me too much.
Blacked-out out on junk, I bet money on a sport I hated just last year. My dad, in a text after he won, said, “Booyah!”
Why am I how I am?
I think again of desserts and having my face rubbed in loss, just for fun.
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My friend Tony’s doing a cool series on his blog called 77 Words About Last Night. I decided to steal the format for a short piece.
Read Tony's series here: http://bit.ly/oGV7uU