I’m worried that my obsession with American girls like the ones above is going to see me grow old and lonely because I never got the chance to move there and marry one.I’m worried that, despite all the industry events I go to, I’m yet to appear in the social pages or have an image on Getty or Tito.
I’m worried that my office crush thinks I’m a jerk. And now I’m worried that she’ll read this and think I’m even weirder.
I’m worried about when I meet Shia LaBeouf. What if we don’t become best friends?
I’m worried that, having spent the first 25 years of my life putting up with the unoriginal jibes about reddish hair (it’s strawberry blonde, turkeys), now that I’m losing it, I’m actually happy with its colour.
I’m worried that there are songs on my iPod that I don’t actually know.
I’m worried that after 32 years, I’ve never been in hospital. I used to think I was indestructible, but now I just know that when I finally get admitted, I won’t be prepared for the pain I’ll be in.
I’m worried that I’m supposed to be a writer, but nothing I write is ever as honest, funny or insightful as PWT’s posts.
I’m worried that I don’t go to the movies enough, and when I do, I always see the rubbish ones.
I’m worried that this will be my creative legacy. And it doesn’t even mention my name.
I’m worried that one day I’m going to be found out.
I’m worried that I have nothing to do in life.
I’m worried that I call myself a king of Stuff, but I never do anything. And the only time I seriously consider doing Stuff is at work, when I know I can’t.
I’m worried that I won’t go out on my terms, and that my terms involve a great white shark and a small boat.
I’m worried that no one will have stepped on Mars in my lifetime. What happened to the future?
I’m worried that I’ve never put 100 per cent into anything, ever.
I’m worried that I haven’t been to the dentist since I broke my tooth on a Strawberry Chomp in year eight.
I’m worried that I’ll never own a copy of Amazing Spider-Man #1, and I wish I traded my Kombi for it when Costa from The Comic Bug first made me the offer. I can’t see an opportunity for some old guy in a ute to run a red light and write off a comic.
I’m worried that I scare Mark with stories of ghosts in our house, and then when I’m the only one home at night, I can’t sleep.
I’m worried that the Dogs don’t have what it takes to win the comp this year.
I’m worried that the recurring dream I have in which I realise I didn’t graduated from uni will one day come true.
I’m worried that there is no girl I’m in love with at the moment.
I’m worried that I’ll be taking these pills for the rest of my life.
Matt
No comments:
Post a Comment