I could be a raccoon

He doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s probably going to be late for work.  Again.  He doesn’t own a clock or a watch, only a small sun dial with an opened umbrella attached to it to show that time doesn’t exist  His eyes open and it feels like the first time he’s ever laid eyes on something other than the back of his eyelids.  He can tell by the way the sun is hitting his face with a bat that it’s later than he usually wakes up.  Plus, cell phones are smart enough to tell the time.  Too bad they aren’t smart enough to sound the alarm for the time it’s set.
         The Cell phone screen shows 9:22 a.m.  This is going to be impossible.  He usually sets his alarm for 7:30 a.m.  This way he can hit the snooze button every five minutes for an hour.  It’s like weaning himself off of sleepiness.  It never works.  It usually backfires.  The alarm will go off at 7:30.  The tone that sounds is “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston.  In his drunken coma, his hand will mindlessly crawl to the phone and press whatever buttons necessary to turn the alarm off.  This will either cause the alarm to be shut off, or an accidental phone call to a girl that he’s obsessed with will be made.  She doesn’t know he has her number.
         He quickly reaches for an animal cracker that is sleeping on the three legged side table that is propped up against his bed.  10 a.m. is written on the cracker in thick black sharpie ink like a tattoo for the rebellious camel.  Now all he needs is a piercing.  He writes on animal crackers because he doesn’t have any paper.  And why buy paper if you can write on animal crackers?  You can’t eat paper after you’re done writing on it. Shit shit shit shit shit shit FUCKING SHIT!!!  He thinks this while the room spins like a slow merry go round carrying 200 lb children with chocolate covered faces and hands.  That’s what the rooms do when there are hangovers involved.  They turn into playgrounds for obese chocolate loving little shits.
         Being late again would result in termination.  He doesn’t need termination.  He needs determination.  Arnold Schwarzenegger.  Late.  Pregnant.  Dead rabbit.  Bun in oven.  Tin roof rusted.  Termination would result in less one on one time with dead green presidents.  And we all know that if you don’t have dead green presidents then you can’t survive.  You can’t survive and you also can’t buy those 3-D puzzles of famous buildings that you love so much
         He leaps up in the same rushed manner that he would if there had unknowingly been a family of cockroaches spooning him while he slept.  As soon as his feet hit the ground he realized he was still drunk, which makes since because he had only stumbled in 2 hours ago (from a bar filled with drunk dancing idiots) for his beauty sleep.  To make sure his beauty sleep was keeping the ugly fairy away, he quickly ran over to the mirror.  His refection confirmed the fact that someone has hired a cow to work the night shift, breaking into his house every night and licking his hair like an everlasting jawbreaker.  It was like someone standing on the ceiling tied a string to the end of a section of his hair and pulled it without giving any slack.
         He also confirmed the presence of make up.  Either that, or a slutty male raccoon has stolen his reflection.  There wasn’t a lot of make up.  Just some thick eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow.  Why the fuck am I wearing make up?  And why do I look so good in it?  I don’t wear make up, but if I did I’d have enough sense to wash the shit off before going to bed.  Man, I bet it felt amazing when the eye shadow was being applied to my eyelids.  I can’t believe I didn’t have to beat the women off with a stick from my slutty raccoon tree home.
         There is no time for a shower, but something had to be done about the hair and the make-up.  On the way to my bathroom he grew three extra sets of arms and hands.  His body knew he would need the extra help.  He turned the hot water on in the sink and began splashing it up onto the spot where the cows tongue had gone to town earlier that morning.  At the same time he stuck a piece of floss between his teeth to work out some of the beer plaque shit.  He also began brushing his teeth with the floss still in between his teeth while he splashed hot water on his head.  If the cowlick were wearing a mood ring, the color would be green, for stubborn.  Or does green mean horny?  Either one would work.  It did resemble an erection.  The cow must have had glue for saliva.  After splashing gallons of hot water, the stubborn and horny cowlick was conquered.
         He wishes there was enough time to scramble two eggs and leave the pan in the sink for the roaches to crawl over like a playground.  Instead he decided it would be a good idea not only to leave without breakfast, but also to be a dumbass and forget to take lunch to insure that he would starve himself to death and forget his time card for clocking in at work.