I arrive home from work, rushing around the house. The only thing on my mind is racing the sun to make it into the ocean and catch a few waves. I glance around my room for some kind of energy to fuel my surf sesh. A-HA! CHEEEETTOOOOOOSSSSSSS. I grab them and throw my gear in my car and start my short drive to the sand (and, mmm, WAVES!). Now, I hadn't eaten anything for lunch and it was going on 7 now. Good thing I grabbed them crunchy cheesies. So I pop that sucker open and start guh-ruuh-bbbbinnn. Looked like a maniac, just jamming hella cheetos down my gullet. The pointer and thumb getting an angrier orange by the second. I get to the bottom, but shoooot, I wasn't about to let those little guys get away! I tip that bag, as one eating cheetos does, to get all the glory. As the bag lowers past my field of vision I see I have drifted over into the other lane, almost HALF WAY! Satisfied eyes quickly turning into terrified and embarrassed eyes. "Damn, that could of been bad" I thought. I park and get suited, and have an aggressively mediocre session. 


Chester done did me dirty.