We parked the getaway car in front of the bank and stared at the entrance.
"This is going to be awesome," I said.
"I don’t know about this, man. Are you sure you planned everything properly?" My best friend the garbage man said.
"Are you kidding me? The only security guard on duty is a 78 year old woman. She uses a cane for Christ’s sake. Now come on, let’s go.”
We entered the bank and waved our fake guns in the air, screaming at everyone to get on the floor. I walked up to the elderly security guard to make sure she was taken care of properly.
"Hi dear," I said. "Look, we don’t want to hurt anyone so if you just sit down here and go back to knitting or whatever you old people do while you suck up our tax dollars, we’ll finish up and be on our way."
I looked at my crew and smiled.
"Can we get you anything? A nice cup of tea? Some new diapers? How about some bunion medicatio-"
Her fist connected with my throat, crushing my wind pipe. As I struggled for air I felt a sharp pain shooting through my body from her knee driving into my testicles. Doubled over and reeling in pain, she grabbed me by the back of my jacket and threw me through a glass partition.
I lay on the floor, collapsed in a heap with my blood pooling around me, and watched as my friends ran for the exit.
"They’ll be back soon," I thought to myself before the security guard used her cane to crush my elbow into a thousand pieces.
Go and pick up the nearest newspaper and read the headlines (DON’T PICK UP THE NEWSPAPER AND READ THE HEADLINES!). Did you notice how depressing and terrifying they were? Luckily I’m a world renowned* meditation expert. I have helped world leaders, celebrities, and people who play skateboards, relax. Now, for a low low price of whatever bills you send me in the mail, I will help you relax.
During my relaxation classes, I sit at the front of a room while my relaxers sit with their eyes closed. Calming music plays, the lights are dimmed, and I calmly and soothingly recite relaxing imagery for the people to consider. Here are some, just for you.
- Consider the water of the Earth. Each living being from the human to a blade of grass depends on it for survival. See those guys near the river’s edge? What are they doing? What is that they’re dumping into the river? That doesn’t look good.
- The trees stretch towards the Heavens. They do this to receive their food, sunlight. In this way they are like the starving children in Africa, reaching towards the aide workers. Mimic the trees and stretch your arms towards the sky. (At this time you should stretch your arms).
- Buzz buzz, says the humble honey bee. Meow meow, says the content cat. Who are you? Says my grandmother with dementia.
- Weeeew, weeeeew, weeeeew, weeeeeew, weeeeeeeeeew! Shhhh, it’s the cops. I was with you all weekend, got it?
- If there were no weirdos in this world, would women shave their pubic hair? Seriously, what’s with guys and liking a shaved vagina?
- Waves lapse upon the shore, swish, swish, swish. Look at the treasures it brings! Driftwood, for craft making; shells, for homemade jewelry; dead fish, for apocalyptic news reports; shoes with human feet inside them still, for the coroner.
- It’s cool if I’ve taken my shirt off, right? Shh, stay still and don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see what I’m doing to my bellybutton.
- You caught me. But who here hasn’t tried to fit a doughnut in their bellybutton?
-Where are you all going?
*Claims of world renownedness still pending before the courts
Nobody is happy to be here. No one is proud of the decisions they’re making right now. Nothing good will come of this. Our night will not be taking a good turn because of the corn dog rollers, the egg salad sandwich, the porn magazine entitled FUGGO, the 64 fluid ounces of Pepsi mixed with Diet Pepsi, the lottery ticket, the tampons, the 5-hour energy shot, or, in my case, all of the above.
I put everything on the counter and the clerk takes a moment to read the tragic short story written there. When I ask for a carton of Newport menthols I can see something inside him break. Poetry is my life but maybe I should’ve majored in business or something instead? Isn’t web design an actual job now? Maybe I could do that. Yeah. Yes. It’s a new era for Skyler!
I ask if he takes checks and his shoulders sag, defeated. As he bags up my stuff I look around at my fellow shoppers and they do not look back. We go about our business quickly and quietly, eager to get back to the dark safety of our cars, the radio drowning out our thoughts. We shall never speak of this again.
I awake on New Year’s Day to discover my fingers stuck in ten different vodka bottles. They make a terrible clatter as I somehow manage to don my kimono emblazoned with a .44 Magnum Colt Anaconda and the words I WILL DESERT STORM DAT ASS in Papyrus. I wait for my boner to subside and then go outside to greet 2012. The wintry air is invigorating upon my boner which did not subside. The year stretches out before me like a gay magic scroll, its enchantments yet to be written.
I see a year filled with adventure and delight. I see a year filled with topless tickle fights and brain veins exploding with wonder. I see children holding hands and singing in harmony because I ordered them to do so and they’re scared of me. I see the sun rising on fields of robo-slaves harvesting my coca plants and setting on the twinkling sapphires embedded in my margarita flagon. I see myself breaking the neck of a giant white wolf and watching as his pack circles around me, sniffing, hesitant at first but finally bowing their heads with respect because whoever slays the head wolf becomes the new leader. I see me and my wolf pack solving crimes in exchange for sex. I see me and my wolf pack eating every world leader and becoming Emperor of Earth, launching a new era of peace for me and prosperity for me. I see me and my wolf pack rolling around in front of my fireplace and getting all crazy and pretend-fighting and just having the best time.
I wave my vodka bottle fingers at the paperboy and he starts crying in terror because he’s trapped in an old media career. I laugh uproariously, and for too long.
» Rating: GOTTA BE TEN SEXY LADIES, MY MAIN MAN. I’M CALLING IT.
Reading this was like watching the emergence of an elder god after an eternity of slumber. Reading this was like taking a step beyond madness into a dimension where pain and pleasure are but shadowy words written in smoke. Reading this was like getting a boner in tight jeans.
My girlfriend was on her way to the kitchen to get a glass of water and I was all like, “Can you make me a fucking sandwich?” And she said, “No problem, and remember it’s your turn to cook dinner and wash the dishes tonight! And please mind your language.”
I said, “You’re right, sorry. And thank you for getting me a sandwich. I love you.”
My least favorite people (at this second) are people who feel Obama “let them down” or “didn’t deliver on his promise.” Guys, “HOPE” was a one syllable slogan, a logo even, to get a corporate backed, big D Democrat elected in a cash contest. People like you are THE SAME THING as the “undecided” Republican caucus voters in Iowa being interviewed now and saying they’re not sure which candidate’s message (i.e. lies) resonates most with them.
I didn’t vote for Obama in 2008 (I CERTAINLY didn’t vote for McCain) but I’ll vote for him next year. The 2 party system is garbage and will ruin our country if we don’t amend it to at the very least include run-off elections, but the Republican party is composed almost exclusively of actual psychos and morons, while the Democratic party is maybe 65% psycho/moron. So even if you view it as biting the bullet and choosing the lesser of two evils, the Democratic party (right now, in 2011) is measurably “less evil.” (See health care, education, civil rights, etc.) Step out of your current fantasy chamber and enter another where the House Republicans who embarrassed the nation with their manufactured debt crisis are tasked with responding to a 9/11-level nightmare. Imagine too that one of them now occupies the Oval Office. Soak that up for a minute.
Obama let you down? Blow it out your ass. He’s a multi-millionaire career politician who doesn’t know you exist, you sissy, but he might be the reason your grandkids have health insurance.
My most favourite person is Rob Delaney, and one day I hope to touch him.
North Korean State Television is reporting that Kim Jong Il has risen from the dead, tap danced his way into an awaiting space shuttle, and was taken to the Moon where he will reign as Universal Dear Leader.
In a show of jubilee, North Koreans have began fasting. State Television is denying International reports that North Koreans are starving due to lack of food, and not from fasting. Government Officials have also issued a press release claiming any reports that the country is in shambles is American propaganda.
Kim Jong Il is expected to address the Universe on the weekend from his friend Bernie’s house with the help of two close friends.
Some naysayers (family, friends, general members of the community) have told me that I’m living an “unhealthy” lifestyle. They are clearly wrong, though, because I haven’t been this happy since I met Susan, my ex-wife.
While I was married to her it was nothing but, “find a job” this and “have you found a job yet?” that. Now that I’ve been divorced for about 2 years, I’m finally living the most awsomest way imaginable.
Just take a look at what my day consisted of today:
-Woke up at 8:30 to the sound of people going to church. I shut my window and blinds and fell back to sleep.
-Woke up at 12:30 and ate breakfast which consisted of Apple Jacks, milk that I didn’t know was chunky, and coffee that tasted like gasoline.
-Got dressed which meant socks, boxers and a sweater (because it’s cold in my apartment).
-Stared at the Internet for several hours.
-Ate dinner which consisted of a box of crackers, a tube of liverwurst, and 8000% of my recommended daily intake of sodium.
-Listened to a side of an R.L. Burnside record while looking at antiques on eBay.
-Played that game with my cat where you make him chase around a laser dot and then you start pointing the laser at your neighbour’s eyes.
-Talked to the police for a while.
-Thought about looking for a job.
-Ate 6 pouches of instant oatmeal.
And now here I am writing this entry. As you can see, I’m living the life of freedom, economic, social, or otherwise. Hell, I don’t even have to spend my money on laundry and can spend it on pizza instead! And I do!
So here’s to you, Susan! The best thing to ever happen to me was when you cheated on me with the Italian fashion designer who lived in the apartment above us!