Getting

I'm getting to where I don't much remember to get back to people, at least out here on the Internet. But I don't even know if that's a bad thing or a good thing, and if I don't know that, maybe it doesn't matter? What high goal am I trying to live up to, anyway? Do I get a crackerjack prize for it or anything? Not even a gold star in Sunday School! Of course, they probably wouldn't let me into Sunday School, for that matter. Maybe, but only because they don't know me. Meanwhile I'm getting rancid and so cold I can't even heat popcorn. The paparazzi can't get a Kodak moment in my presence, not even if I was humping one of their wives. It's terrible when we can't even depend on our preoccupation with moral corruption and degradation. Things are about as sour as they can get. Some of you out there are just delicious. But half of those would just get red-faced if I named them. And the other half would think it was just a joke.

Don't touch me. Don't stick your wet finger in an electric socket. Things could go wrong. I think they already have. I think I'll be getting to sleep now...

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