Falling Asleep On the T

Ya know whuuut? E’en when Iiiii’m dawunk I aam steel a gud po’et, An if this dern puter keybroad wud stop mov’n in curcles, I cud e’en show it. In…in…intoxication dun mmm’pair me none; I’ll jest show you how dis is done. Ware’s my bottle? I need a wittle more. Oh man… My head is kinda sore. She shouldna left me! I di’nt mean to do it. Well, I’ll jest write a love pom to her, “How mush do I luv you…” Ahhhh, screw it!!! I messed up – di’nt I? I do’n know why. I guess I’m just a boob. I probly shud eat some food. She ain’t com’n back this time, I jest know it. You think this kinda pain will make me a bettur poet? Uh, oh. I do’n feel sooo gud. I feel like I might pass out, but she di’nt hav to shoutttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt