Time for some of that emo slice-a-life stuff. That right there is a real-life document of my afternoon. When I started working (or, lately, “working”) at home I really didn’t anticipate being driven so crazy by staying at home all the time, since I am basically a recluse. So for the past while I’ve taken to going to coffeeshops to get out of the stupid house (and sometimes have tea – but screw the stupid theme) and honestly it’s something I never imagined I would be doing. As a matter of fact, if you took my 19-year-old self and told him that sort of thing was in his future, well, his reaction… refer to figure 2.

The result is decisive. This knowledge is the essence of existential exasperation, a new kind of exasperation to add to the panoply of exasperations life has to offer. Though. In my current self’s defense (this is really sounding schizophrenic. Next week I will treat you to a new mental disorder. I have so many to choose from) – in defense of my current self, I’m not real sure what my 19-year-old self thought life in the future was going to be like. Can’t really remember. Do remember senior year of college I was telling people I was probably gonna wind up working a day job. Oddly that hasn’t worked out. But I was smart enough – I’m sure I had a couple of scenarios in mind. It went pretty much like this.

I think this covers all the essentials. Maybe a little starry-eyed. I couldn’t really fit the urn that contained the remains of the publishing industry, but that was also an important part. However, I did think things through. I always knew there would be another option.

You see I was never entirely unrealistic.

I’ve never gotten to make anyone a band flyer and I’m kind of sad about it.

Of course, like an idiot, I had to come up with an idea that entailed me having to make up a band name to – it gets worse, believe me – match the picture. Foolish! Luckily it only took me a couple hours. See how I say luckily? That is how foolish I was.

By the way, I googled it, and if they’re any guide, nobody’s actually called their band “Crackbomb.” Nobody on the internet anyway. Probably some hardcore band in St. Louis circa 1985. So! If you wanna start a band, call it “Crackbomb” and I’ll let you use this picture. Lucky you! You’ll have to rig some way to play a gig at a place called “The Plant” at 9 though. That I can’t be responsible for.

Thinking about other things this week. Luckily the government came through and supplied me with an idea when I didn’t spend the time to come up with one myself. It’s great living in a socialist country!

Man, I remember when vice-presidents used to mostly stay out of sight and invent the internet. Those, those were the days.

Remember when I said I’d spare you my vision of Shaolin Jesus? Of course you don’t. I have no regular readers! But that is not my point. The point is, what else the fuck am I gonna do with “chair”? Seriously. Chair? Desperate times call for desperate measures. That’s right. Shaolin Jesus.

My next promise is that I will spare you my depiction of Mohammed as a Mexican wrestler next week when the theme is, no, not “Danish cartoonists” – or “famous embassy disasters” – but “stapler.” That is because I will be inspired!