Good Times, Bad Times. What's the difference when you're depressed like me. I went to my GP and asked how I could cure my depression. He looked at me strangely in my checkered rainbow skirt and mustard yellow lingerie bra. He diagnosed me with multiple personality disorders, but The Beast disagreed with his evaluation. I know I'm depressed and nobody can tell me otherwise. In search of this long lost cure of depression, i took a more holistic hospitality approach. I was excited and paranoid to discover The Good Times Milk bar only a little whiles away from my dumpster. So I gathered my belongings consisting of a clam, a chandelier, the entire box set of The Walking Dead, a metre long garden hose, a dried autumn leaf, a dogs tail and two cigarettes and embarked on my 60km walk. On my journey to the Good Times Milk Bar I ran across a few hero's challenges. A homeless man asking for money, a Sudanese man, and a purple haired woman. I defeated the homeless man by simply telling him to "buy a house". The Sudanese man was more troublesome, but I simply distracted him with some water with my garden hose, and the purple haired lady stopped me dead in my tracks. I had to convince her I was actually a hybrid man, Eagle, tetradactyl and moose, and she let me pass. After many days or hours of walking, I reached my destination. When I walked in, the room became silent. Dead silent, so silent you could hear the atoms all around us pulsing. The man at the counter stuttered, trembling with fear "can I help you" I replied judgingly " can you, IM DEPRESSED, ARE YOU GUYS GONNA GIVE ME A GOOD TIME?" The manager awoke from her slumber, towering towards me in all her feminine might. I asked "can I smoke in here?" After I lit my last cigarette. Only a few minutes had passed, and patrons where flooding the door. I was not happy. The deep Dark beast inside me started boil and took the light. Suddenly i woke in a daze. Bodies all around me, some people dead, some whimpering on the ground, begging me to stop. I looked on the ground, seeing my cigarette had burnt down to the butt. "How long was i out" i looked around at the devastation, what had he done. I came here expecting Good Times, what i received was Insufficient time. 0/5 read more