Fuckers'r Fucking Fucked Up Motherfuckers, The Heavy Black Avalanche and Tunnel Champ 2006 a.k.a. ME

My home was invaded by random strangers again last night. They came in and drank all my booze, got on their cell phones and invited their other friends. They hooted and hollered looking through all my stuff and picking up my things. Most of them didn't even know that I was the host or that it was my home. There weren't only two or three degrees of separation there were more like twenty. There wasn't one person around to whom I wanted to talk. None of my friends were there, just a bunch of random yuppies and nerds with mustaches and glasses, not the ironic kind either, the kind that grow because that's what dad did. Total strangers -- all of them. Fuck strangers.

At a certain point I climbed upon a soap box and began preaching about host and guest etiquette but nobody was interested, they just went carrying on rummaging and laughing and partying. As my frustration grew to a point that I wanted to begin yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs I instead realized that it was pointless and that people would never learn how to be even the most basic of decent human beings. Fuckers are fucking fucked up motherfuckers.

I took a walk down the road to an old rail yard where giant hills of black rock type smelter slag were made. I remember going there as a kid and trying to ride bikes on it. It's mushy gravel type consistency always made for a grueling ride. The slag is the left over charred metal remnants from the local copper mine, or at least that's what I was told. It seemed more like volcanic rock to me.

I walked up one of these gigantic mounds about ten feet and sat down to think, I laid back and felt the cold rock on my back and I really liked it. It occurred to me that someone had been chasing me earlier and I remembered that they had a gun. I used my feet to dig a hole down below my knees and I kept moving my body from side to side in a fashion that allowed me to slowly sink into the black hillside. Due to the fact that these hills were created from rock being dumped on them from above, they were at the perfect balanced incline to begin with, any removal of material from below would cause an avalanche from above -- and this is exactly what my burrowing did. Suddenly tons and tons of rock was sliding down upon me completely burying me. The heavy feeling of the cold pieces of rock sliding over my body was not surprisingly very very comforting. The weight and the smell of my new pitch black environment was wonderful. My whole body was compressed ten times as much as even the heaviest of my former girlfriends smashing me by laying on top of me. Cool firm even pressure, even better than that few months when I decided to put every one of the dozens and dozens of fancy blankets I owned on my bed and sleeping under their movement restricting weight.

As with all the other times I had tunneled and burrowed through the ground like a gopher or prairie dog, I kicked my legs and wiggled myself and began moving to an unknown destination. I'd pop my head out now and then to see where my efforts had taken me. Each time I was miles from where I began. Each time the world looked wonderful and new.

I am easily the best tunneler I know. The fact that I don't know anyone else who tunnels doesn't take away from the fact that I'm the fucking best. I am. Suck it faggots.