the longer you wait to tell a story, the crazier it's going to be. instead of using cold-hard truth bombs, your mind fills in gaps with shit that
actually never happened. the best part is, unless you're some sort of memory-god, if enough time passes, you won't be able to tell what's fact and what's fiction.
so that time when i was 4 and climbed up the giant washing machine with my bare hands to get to those delicious, golden ritz crackers ....
what actually what happened was more like this.
what does that have to do with ritz crackers?
who knows, i'm 21 years old now.
