Hi. Where'd my popsicle go?

I am right now writing to you from the future because after reading what I wrote and it made me kind of pissed at myself but a little sad for myself too. I'm like that new puppy that you love so much and really want to bring home and love forever but now the house smells like pee, your neighbors hate you, now Jesus hates you (even more) and due to your ack of sleep, the bags underneath your eyes now lookaren't going away - see? That was dumb too. I just forgot what i was going to say again and I'm writing in the wrong place. I need to go back over....

It's very hard to write now...or, I should say that it's harder for me to write now because I write like I talk and if you were a friend of mine when I used to have friends, you'd know how hard it is/was to listen to me in real life because listening to me if you're unable to jump out of the car or you were too polite to ask for the check because I was talking to the lesbian Lizard alien couple(s) interupt me while and I'm like, five kids telling you about HERE. That made no sense.

Well, I'm not going to even bother retreading those tired, written tires that I previously tried, but now im tired of trying and I'm out of time. It's too - mulch - I mean, MUCH sometimes

And now you'll stop listening to my insistent instances of idiotic illiteration because I think it's funny and hope, for you that it's  funny to litter in the little, itty-bitt,  private park of your patience. That was Pdumb Ptoo but I pwish that it was a psaying. That was a dumb pwish...and my ppopsicle by the keyboard has melted -