Author's Note:

This…has no significance. I really just wanted to write out my thoughts after getting in touch with my inner Axel. I guess you can say this is therapeutic? Mostly meant to be humorous, since I feel like being a sarcastic little bastard and just ranting on about life…through Axel's perspective! None of this is planned and I, quite literally, just type out what I think the second it comes to my head…through Axel's perspective! They'll be pretty short (maybe less than 1,000 words a chapter, depending on how wandering my mind is), but I'll keep them entertaining. :D

Hope this makes all y'all laugh!

So. Kinda just sitting here, bored. Whoop-dee-doo.

Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

I kinda want to go for a walk, except there are two things wrong with that picture:

1 – it's 1:30 in the morning.

2 – It's January. Meaning, it's cold as Hell.

Can Hell even get cold? I've never understood that expression. And while we're on the topic, why do a lot of expressions relate to Hell?

"Sexy as Hell." "Hurt like Hell." "Annoying as Hell."

I can understand the hurting and the annoying, but the sexy? How can Hell possibly be sexy?

If you make it wear some cheap lingerie? Hahahaha. *snort*

I've never understood lingerie, either. What's the point of dressing up in some sexy underwear if your man (or woman. Seriously, if it's a woman, you have some issues to sort out) is just going to tear it off your body anyway? I mean, think about it: would you rather spend about three-hundred bucks at Victoria's Secret to purchase nothing but strings and lace that will most likely either get lost in the wash or will rip apart anyway with your antics, or would you rather just walk into the room naked and say "fuck it, I'm naked and I'm horny and I want you, let's do this, baby"?

Logic, people! Logic!

Not that I'm one to talk. I ain't getting any. Damn.

Maybe I could convince Roxas to wear some lingerie.

Ha! Psych.

He'd shank me up the ass.

…it's a lot more painful than it sounds, trust me.

Speaking of my beloved Roxy, the other day he visited and we found the most retarded toy ever. It was some weird kind of robot toy with a remote that made it do stuff. There was a "Dance" option, but the little fucker wouldn't dance. Hell, it wouldn't do anything we wanted it to do.

Ahh, shit. The fire alarm just started going off. I blame myself…for whatever it is I've done.

…did I even do anything this time?

…nah.

Anyway, we spent about six minutes trying to get the damn thing to work. But no matter what button we pressed, it would just go "yeah" or "uh huh" or make some really weird noise.

YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. UH-HUH. YEAH. UH-HUH. UMF. UH-HUH. YEAH.

…hehehehehehe. Dirty thoughts.

THE DAMN ALARM WON'T STOP GOING "BEEP!"

Since I'm kinda letting my mind wander, I'm just gonna read some stuff on the internetz. I need ideas for my next Roxy-n-Me time. He said, "Your tricks are getting old, Axel."

Do you know what this means?

It means that I'm getting predictable! The things that used to spice up our sex life no longer have that zing! I need some new material or else my little bitch is gonna take his sweet ass somewhere else! But where?

…DEMYX.

THE LITTLE WHORE.

But Demyx is sooo uke…and Roxas is sooo uke…who would top?

…OH MY GOD.

I'd rather not think of that. EVER. AGAIN.

Now then, onto the fanfiction!

There's some crazy shit that goes on in that stuff. Like, vampires and princesses and male prostitutes and tentacle people. …what the hell. These people have waaaay too much free time.

And if I don't get any new things soon, I'm going to have waaaay too much free time.

...damn.

I feel a sudden wave of heat coming in through my AC vent. …which is weird, because in the entire building, my vent is the only one that's fucked up. Nothing goes through it, absolutely nothing.

…I hope something hasn't died in there.

Ahaha, I'm grinning like a damn fool at this one.

Like I would really tease Roxy with a mental image of me in a shower.

…okay, I would.

Not that you can really blame me, right?

I mean, c'mon. These hips don't lie.

Oh, wait. That's a song, isn't it? Damn you, Shakira.

...how did I even get these hips, anyway? I'm pretty sure I have a penis, what with the way Roxy screamed my name last night. Lemme check just to be sure it didn't fall off sometime today.

Yup. Still have my penis.