City developers have begun phase 1 of un-gentrifying South Tampa by opening a Popeye’s in the center of Hyde Park.
“This is the worst idea the city has ever had.” Said Penelope Doosche, life-long resident of Hyde Park.
“Poor people make my skin hurt, and my eyes water when their around, so this is pretty much my worst nightmare. Luckily, I’m rich, so I’m going to move to another area where no poor sh*t is happening, and I never have to acknowledge the existence of ‘sufferers’ that’s what we call poor people in my family.” Doosche said before, wrapping her designer shall around her very skinny shoulders and sauntering down Swann avenue.
The plan to un-gentrify South Tampa was approved by local legislators after a unanimous plan was voted on to lower the price of Hyde Park living so it could be once again gentrified in 50 years from now.
“We’ve already gentrified this area, so we can’t gentrify it, and that’s our favorite thing to do, so we figure if we un-gentrify it now, our children will be able to gentrify it again in the future, giving them the joy of pushing people out of their neighborhoods.” Said Denville Barducky, head of the un-gentrification project.
I don’t want to write this one anymore.
I don’t want to (I was about to say “do anything anymore” but that sounds too depressing. And I don’t think I’m depressed, that’s probably more dramatic than how I actually feel. I don’t know.)
I want to become wealthy for no reason and lay around a palatial estate all day and play with barn animals as well as exotic animals.
That’s what I want.
Riches and pets of animals, that’s what I want.
I don’t really care about fame.
Life seems better without it.
Money and freedom is what I want.
I have a little bit of that, I just want more of it.
And I’m willing to compromise my morals slightly for it.
If you can help me out with that, let me know.
Seriously! If you have the means to improve my life, reach out! I’m manifesting it.
I want more! With little effort. But this is some effort! I’m putting in effort right now! Through these pseudo-journals. I hate people who use “pseudo” it’s not cool or smart. It’s annoying as hell.
Alright, anyways, this articles busted wide open, there’s nothing left. There never was anything. The headline is ok I guess. You’re the judge! I put out the “art” and you determine it’s value or if it’s enjoyable at all. Hopefully it felt good a little bit. It felt ok for me. It wasn’t un-enjoyable. It didn’t hurt. It was just a passing of time on my end really. Like waiting in an elevator.
That’s what this article felt like to me, like waiting in an elevator, and now I’m on my floor, and there’s no reason I was on the elevator in the first place. I don’t need to be in this building. I just came in and got on the elevator because it was something to do. I had nothing to do so I walked into the building and rode the elevator. Is that relatable? It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t I’m not going for a relation. I’m just writing so I can escape. But escape what? Why do I need to escape? I don’t need to, I just like to. It’s fun. It’s fun to write things. Tap, tap, tap, on the keyboard.
It feels like you’re accomplishing something when you tap on the keyboard and the words show up on the screen. It’s like a mental trick to make you feel like you’re accomplishing something. Tap, tap, tap, go the keys and the words continue to appear. It’s like magic. I don’t know how it works, and I know that I never will. I’l never understand any of this. And that’s ok.
Ok what about this.
It’s a person and they want to be a choo-choo train.
So we call them trains-gendered.
Is that something?
Why am I asking you?
I know it’s something.
It’s a bad pun.
But no puns are really good, so “bad pun” is redundant.
All puns are equal.
And they’re either all good or they’re all bad.
Or they just “are.”
I’m done. I need to stop thinking or my brains going to hurt. The wheels are turning too quickly and they’re grinding. The wheels need maintenance. My brain wheels.