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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. I did not have friends growing up. I was too quiet, too reserved, too terrified of being hurt by other people. My parents never beat me, in contrast, the house was overly safe, and I think that’s what the problem was. My mother had constructed a sanctuary for me to keep out the evils of the world, but by the time I would have entered school, it was a psychological prison. Years passed by in solitude as I remained stagnant. Time has no meaning to those who remain unchanged.
For a few months last year, I worked with farkle-farkle at one of the worst companies I could possibly have chosen. I do not mince words. I could work in technical writing for twenty years, changing jobs every four months, and not find a worse place than American Sensors Corporation. The first time farkle-farkle said the name “American Sensors”, I thought she’d said “American Censors”—as if they stifle free speech and creativity. Well, it turns out that I was close. American Sensors instead stifles your will to exist. What an incredible journey it’s been. I remember it like it was yesterday. Getting that Zip disk full of naughty pictures from my friend and keeping it longer than I said I would. Loading some of them onto floppy disks so that I could transfer them to my antique laptop. Looking at Grabass_Champion’s forbidden Playboy briefcase. Lamenting my 56k internet connection and begging him to download and burn me some high-speed porn. He became my porn-dealer. It was a humble beginning, but I still keep those CD’s lying around because of the fond memories attached to them. You think that you have found out how I caused the war in Iraq, well, you are dead wrong, Mon Capitan! True, Ketchikan was part of it, but in your haste to divine the source of America’s wrongs, you failed to see the hundreds of other places where I, Doctor Subtle, did extend the tentacles of my evil influence. |
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