perhaps your gut is different than mine, but i spend a good amount of my day doing my best to Ignore my gut
my gut tells me to skateboard on the stairs of the LAPD HQ even though in LA such skating is a crime.
my gut tells me to flip off people who drive horribly.
my gut wants me to kiss girls who i have no future with and stop the car immediately
when a restaurant offers “all u can eat”
for some reason my gut has a chip on its shoulder when it should have the opposite.
it should have salsa on its shoulder.
my gut and my heart, although very close, disagree on almost everything, which is why i prefer to listen to my heart.
my heart neither has a chip nor salsa on its shoulder, it has an angel on it
the angel is eating doritos, which its gut convinced it to buy at the 7-Eleven along with two Ding Dongs, a cherry slurpee.
and also a Mega Millions lottery ticket even though the angel lives in heaven where money is worthless
the angel just likes to win stuff cuz winning is fun.
my gut tells me to run away from girls after it becomes obvious that they like me.
my gut tells me to stay at the blackjack table after ive won several hands.
its the thing that tells me to double down.
my heart says youre in vegas, use the money to go see a show youd never see, like Celine Dion.
my gut tells me the Cubs wont win the World Series until well after im dead
but my heart says tough luck youre a Cub fan, keep buying their merch, keep rooting for them, keep hope alive.
my gut just wants to eat kosher hotdogs in the bleachers, drink Old Style,
and bet with friends as to which infielder touches his junk next.
my gut has never had a valid drivers license.
my heart has never gotten into an accident.
my gut thinks something fishy happened on 9/11.
my heart only sees the beauty in everything.
my heart thinks love is the key.
my gut wants to pee
in the snow.