So I decided to trim my beard really short. I did a terrible job. I looked like a 1990s Kenny Loggins with cancer for a minute.
Went wandering though some souvenir shops in a really janky town up the coast. One of them had barrels and barrels of real stuffed penguins, or so I THOUGHT. Some of them were stuffed but the rest were alive. Don't ask me why they all stayed put in their boxes and barrels, I tried to coax some of them out but they were all apparently perfectly happy to be for sale to tourists. I suppose it also had something to do with the fact that they were bred right there in the souvenir shop -- you could buy them at any stage of development, from egg to old dead and stuffed.
Not such a bad life I suppose.
Anyway, I was tempted but I really don't need a penguin so I bought some 100 year old overalls straight out of the dryer. NICE.
Later I was hanging out with a bunch of corporate stiffs who behaved accordingly and quizzed me about my finances/ When I told them I haven't had a JOB since 1991 they looked sorta dumbfounded but mostly bitter and jealous. So stupid though because it's not like I was bragging. I'm just simply unemployable is all. Fake authority makes me violent.
Anyway when I got home I went into the kitchen and there was a big black rat taking a nap on the casserole I made earlier. He looked so cute all snuggled up I couldn't bear to wake him. As I went to turn the light back off, it heard me and opened one eye. Man that rat was sure comfortable because it didn't even get up to run, it just rolled over for me to scratch his belly. Truthfully, had the casserole been big enough I would have crawled right in and snuggled with that little motherfucker. CUTE!
Maybe I live in a Pixar movie.
Point is:
All authority is fake unless you've got a gun.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught trying to hang yourself with string cheese.
Your First Choice For Prom Queen,
Some Stupid Bitch
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