These days Adam Levine's facebook feed was full of people he'd done coke with five years ago. He kissed a girl named Nina last night and he was trying not to imagine the future they would have together. He didn't want to think about holding her in bed late at night as they watched the new season of Arrested Development. He didn't want to think about introducing her to his parents and his asshole cousins. He didn't want to think about her arms around his neck. He didn't want to think about her at all.

Adam's friends kept telling him he had a crush on Nina. He kept telling himself he had a crush on Nina. He settled into his purple comforter and took a muscle relaxer. When he stopped listening to his friends tell him how to feel and really asked himself how he felt he just didn't know. She was this far away thing he couldn't wrap his head around. He didn't know if he really liked her or if he was just bored. Adam was often bored. He rolled over on his stomach. What was the point of developing feelings for someone if you were just going to break up someday? She would just disappoint him. They always did. Adam would rather snort methylin and think about himself instead.

He looked at the sleeping girl next to him. Was her name Carly or Emily? He knew a lot of Emily's. Her name was probably Emily. He didn't know why sex made people feel close to one another. He didn't feel close to Emily and he just rubbed his genitals on her. Even when he was drunk enough to allow himself to feel affectionate towards Nina he didn't imagine himself doing sex on her, he just imagined holding her tenderly as she slept soundly beside him.

He didn't know if it was his ego or the world around him but Adam got the distinct feeling that everybody was a fucking moron. So what if he hated America? He was sick of the idiocy of people who watched The Voice. Judith Hill was talented! She was really great at massaging his balls and she deserved to be rewarded for it. Americans constantly bitched and moaned about the state of society without realizing they lived in the best country in the world.

Adam had been to third-world countries with Maroon 5. Hell, he'd been to other first-world countries. Everybody in America should be grateful every second of every day they got to live in a country where they keep McDonalds in airports. They should feel proud to have air-conditioning in most public places. They should appreciate the fact that they didn't have to deal with French waiters. People should get on their knees and thank God every day they didn't have to eat chicken knuckles for breakfast. This weekend at a meet-and-greet at JC Pennys a fan told him she would love to go to Vietnam. Adam had said you could sleep in five star hotels for $10 a night in Hanoi. The vapid girl had told him she would sleep in a shack because she didn't care about luxuries. Adam wanted to slap her face. She didn't know anything. Instead, he told her she was brave, wiped a tear from his eye, gave her a hug and autographed her boobs.

Adam was thankful everyday he lived in a country where they televised a national singing competition that was all about him. Adam loved America but, goddamnit, he hated Americans. Adam had been drunk for five days. Why stop now? He only felt bad early in the mornings.