i am surrounded by the accoutrements of a formerly fun person gone dull. red bull, camel lights, half empty paper cups of cold skim cappucino, emergen-c, sudafed, stacks of legal texts, pens and hi-liters. nails gnawed to the nub, eyes ringed in pewter half moons, hair tangled and clothes rumpled, i anxiously scan pages of garamond 12 pt font which, despite the laws of physics, change size and bounce off the page. the stories of your exploits are the only thing that brings joy to my drugless, sexless, rock n' rollless life. fun is a tantalizing foe. i have ten days left. please help me climb out of what is thus far the nadir of fun in my life. come visit me for my party lest i be taken away in a wahhmbulance never to be fun again.
5 comments:
be strong! i dont have fun either... i sit in a windowless room building a machine that pokes (very very precisely). 10 days!
you are
a) trapped in a nike sweatshop
b) living out kafka's penal colony
c) a mad scientist
my overworked dears, your time shall come. the sir and madame not appearing no holds bar, winner take all round robin fun spectacular is a marathon. not a sprint.
I think of it more as a living, screaming, terrifying nightmare. Day terrors, even.
You'll make it Silva. And then you'll be the best lawyer everzzzzzz.
We're going to need a lawyer to represent us when we start going to new lengths in our fun. You're the William Kunstler to my Abbie Hoffman.
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