Gum Chewer

I think the most sad/depressing part about growing up is the reoccurring realizations of fun or exciting things ending. Or maybe that's just all the time, any time. I just hate it when good things end. Like a good year. Or the surprise of Christmas morning. Or even the end of a good meal, where you're not chewing anymore, and your mouth no longer really knows what to do with itself. I used to think that's what they invented gum for; to let the mouth still get a work-our even after a meal. But, then you have to spit out your gum after it goes bad... so there's always that cold shock of nothing-ness. UGH! I just hate change, but at the same time I love it: BARACK!!!