The Gas Station By My Apartment Now Sells Surge Tall Boys And I've Never Been Happier

This is it.  This is the point of no return for me. Bloggers like to joke around about being fat and eating like shit and not taking care of our bodies and it’s true to a certain extent.  Blog life lends itself to laziness, copious amounts of junk food, take out, muscle atrophy and eventual giant stomachs and man boobs. It’s just part of the deal when somebody tells you, “You now have a job where you don’t necessarily ever have to move ever again.” It’s both liberating and dangerous. But even with all that said, I still try to mix in a banana or green vegetable or flight or stairs from time to time to try and combat the tidal wave of high fructose corn syrup, calories and minimal movement that washes over me on a daily basis. Well that was up until 24 hours ago when I stumbled upon the fact that the gas station near my apartment sells tall boys of Surge. I don’t know how or why but it does.  The sugary, Mt. Dew-on-steroids beverage that I’m pretty sure is banned in most parts of the world is now about 600 feet from where I currently sit. No fruit or vegetable will be able to combat the delicious poison that will now be entering my body on a consistent basis.

Before now the only time I could get it was when they would randomly release limited cases of the stuff on Amazon. Upon seeing the racks at the gas station yesterday I unconsciously grabbed a 12 pack and headed home. It might as well have been heroin. Surge being readily available to me is where I develop diabetes (or worsen what I might unknowingly already have. No health insurance = no doctor appointments), surgeons start lopping off limbs and I eventually end up a dead stump of human flesh in a hoodie. Or it’s only a matter of time before my landlord stumbles upon me laid out on the floor of my apartment, dead from a Surge OD. And I’ve never been more excited.