Don't Put Those Dirty Lips On Me

I found Mama's Losin' It through my friend Diane. The amazing thing about this site is that she gives a list of weekly writing prompts. This week, I chose to write from the point of view of a glass at the edge of the table.

5...4...3...2...1...

I wonder if people realize just how much they say when they assume nothing is listening. Obviously none of these meat sacks has ever seen Toy Story.

Something I always wondered...who was smoking the hemp when the expression "glass half empty/full" came about? I'm always full. Don't believe me? Even I know that everything has mass, even air. So when you have it pushing at your insides like a particularly righteous case of gas, you know it's there.

Another question: Do you meat sacks realize how truly disgusting your lips and hands are? What, it's only harassment when it's another meat sack? I call racism. Yeah, I said it. Racism. I'm only a year old. That's illegal right? Someone call that Chris Hansen guy, I'm sure he'll help me out.

Ooh here comes the lady of the house. The one semi-decent meat sack in this hive of scum and villainy. She doesn't put her lips on me, she always uses a straw which I'm so thankful for. Wait, where she is taking me? Oh no, not the dishwasher! Come on lady, I've done nothing to deserve this! I'd like to see you go through a car wash and see how you like it!

Well fu--- *gurgle*