The worst day of my life

This is the aforementioned first encounter I ever had with writing for pleasure. I wrote this when I was sixteen or seventeen. I had to try about 50 different email and password combinations to get back onto my old myspace profile (ya know, from back in the day when that was the only social media site) to find it. But here it is. Enjoy!

The worst day of my life came crashing down upon me like an avalanche. Utter pain and devastation can't begin to describe the total torture and suffering I experienced. There were no escapes or options, just dead ends and traps. I searched and searched my whole world to pick up the scattered chips of my life, but they were simply out of reach. I entered a state of depression that seemed inescapable. Nowhere to turn for answers. I knew exactly the problem, but a solution was nonexistent.

Yes, yes... my hand no longer fit in a pringles can. How on earth was I supposed to deal with this catastrophic situation. Once you pop, You can't stop! Everyone knows that! But now I was forced to stop. That, my friend, is redefining the verge of breaking the laws of physics. Tipping the can is out of the picture, because anyone knows that once you tip that sucker past about 3 degress from vertical, those oh-so-tasty crisps of magnificence are everywhere. Asking for help is nowhere near being an option because someone that can successfully delve into the nether regions of a can of pringles is bound to try one, and as we know already (because it is the main source of this trifling predicament) once you pop... you can't stop. So BOOM! There goes the whole can if I solicit the help of a now uncontrollable glutton. As you see. I am trapped. Am I now destined to spend the rest of my munching life crunching down doritos, and cheetos, and chili-cheese fritos (Isn't is amazing how the entire chip world peacefully settled on a beautiful rhyming scheme?)?

Oh no, my fine, fortunate, feather-fingered friend. I will have no such doom. Give me death before a world without pringles and that whimsical bodiless man on the can. I cry my plea now for BIGGER CANS (hoorah)... and thus bigger chips???? Oh I must not let myself get so excited when the hope supporting my jubilation is so perilously unfounded. But just imagine the magical world that would ensue if we were to break those fiendish bonds of the three-inch demon and spawn a utopia of four-inch splendor!

Right now my behemoth bear-claw buddies... WE UNITE! Make a difference. Envision that dream I call tomorrow, and make a difference. Embrace the struggles you endure everyday of your life; snapping crayons every time you sit down for an enjoyable coloring session, bending spaghetti noodle forks every time you endeavor to cut a firm piece of over-cooked pork, losing indefinitely, coins between the seats in the car, crushing small creatures every time you try to so gently caress their beautiful furs. Remember all of the pain these experiences, and many others, have brought you, and MAKE A DIFFERENCE!