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It’s not every day you count the beavers in between you and Arby’s. No. It’s not every day. But today is only one day, and today I did it. It started out real hard. I looked everywhere for the fuckers. Couldn’t find a single one. I figured, damn, there must be more than no beavers between where I am and Arby’s. Then I realized I was still in the bathtub. I have a bed. It’s sitting in the back of the somewhat derelict van that is parked in front of my house. I have actively chosen not to put it together since the end of July, because I, through my own sloth, accidentally discovered the greatest sleep-apparatus short of a hammock. Mattress on the floor is divine for the following reasons. 1: Endless nightstand. Do you really want to fuck around with a two-by-one-and-a-half-foot space for your alarm clock, cellphone, and everything else you’re way too lazy to put where it belongs? Stop, then! Your nightstand just became the floor within arm’s reach of your mattress. You have been liberated.
In Ancient Greece, few dramas were more tense than this exchange of sharp words and swords between a pair of rival playwrights. Their story remained lost to history until the relevant documents were plumbed out of the depths of an Egyptian portopotty. It is supposed that they were deposited there after being discarded when an Achaemenid used them as first reading material, and then toilet paper. We meet our heroes, Lord Sir Joseph St. John MacJasper KGC, Captain RN of the HMS Unbelieveblydifficulttosinknoreally ( we don’t see the name till the boat pulls out later, it is written in a wide arc above the aft windows), and Midshipman Louis C. B. Smith Jonesington as they enter the aforementioned ship via a gang plank flanked by Marines. I hate Dave & Busters. I’ve hated them for a long time. It has nothing to do with their staggeringly overpriced french fries, their usurious activation fees for their cards, or that dumb way that they connect all their fans together with gears and belts. No, it runs much deeper. Man, I am so hungover right now. I’ve been lying here in this bed for what seems like days. This sucks balls. The last 24 hours are a black hole of memory, and my head feels like it’s got the San Andreas Fault running through it. I don’t even remember what time I went to bed last night. Recently I was stuck in car outside of my driving jurisdiction and thus without the authority to change the radio station. Among the various ephemera of pop music which quickly left my head, I suddenly picked up on the refrain of “I Kissed A Girl”. I too have kissed a girl, and everyone likes songs which relate to them, but the difference here may be that I am male, and thus my actions carried no titillating tease of the homoerotic. Still, it was of interest. So, I used to love seeing you when you came around, y’know? You were kinda cute and we talked and it was so fun to just flirt a little bit. I mean, so long as your boyfriend wasn’t around. Then you disappeared for a couple of weeks… I didn’t really notice, no… I see a lot of people every day so it’s not any offense to you, it just wasn’t a big loss in the grand scheme of things. |
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