Back for 30 nights of writing

I had an idea last night. It's sort of a writing atheist's (atheist writer's?) lent. You write something, anything, for 30 days in praise of whatever the fuck you want to praise.

Of course when I had that idea last night, I thought "MUST.WRITE.NOW." But then things came up, as they always do. Last minute assignments and things. And today I had the choice of staying at home, cleaning, and writing, OR spending half my meager tax return on cold spaghetti and Go Karting. You know which one I picked (like duh!). Now my eyelids are drooping shut, but I forced myself to write.

Like with all things religious, writer's lent comes with a price. All writing must be of praise and glory. Positive vibes, galore!

I have been a grumpy cat for way too long. It's finally summer, and the birds are chirping and the supermarket aisles are ripe with fruit. How can I stay loathing, moaning, and complaining about my existence?

So today's positive story is this:

The floor is checkered, black and white. Someone must have said it will add to the ambiance. Some thick guy, rolling the word "ambiance" around in his mouth like a cigar. The race flag floor, the neon lights, thick bulbs on the rim of fortune wheels, flickering video game screens, all things glow-in-the-dark. It feels like I've stepped inside Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Except this one is for children.

Now I forget what part of this story was supposed to be happy.

Nevermind.