It’s been a long few years, but I’ve decided to begin reporting on the world through my eyes as an investigative reporter. I’m living back at home with my miserable and extremely cheap father. To say things are bad is the best understatement since Bush announced to the world that he’s a uniter not a divider. Oddly I don’t think uniter is an actual word, that should have been the first clue, but we as a culture prefer neatly worded slogans and other methods of brainwash then factual or proper presentation. That’s why I too prefer to write as a man of the people instead of a poet from God; well that and I don’t have the skill to do it any other way.
My father a kind of doctor (chiropractor) has been married three times and has had three children with each of those three ex-wives who now collectively own all his passions with the exception of the first, my mother who decided to take the first train to heaven by standing firmly, as she always stood, in front of a speeding train. I hope she had a ticket to meet Jesus and hang out with him a bit he seems like a swell guy. If I’ve learned anything as a yet to be married thirty year old, it’s the word prenuptial. Now my father lives in the same building he grew up in, and eventually owned and is now a tenant to his ex-wife who now owns 55% of the building, and lives across the hall with her new boyfriend Poco. Affirmative action has gone too far if you ask me.
Now Poco, my cheap father, his current ex-wife, me, and the other neighbors now live in this apartment building all searching for the same thing of either Christ, salvation, or the lowest possible rate on car insurance. Most of us fall short of our goals because possibly we shoot too high or stop reaching after the labels of fashion and the pleasure of sex enchain our fantasy and dreams, and craft them into the corporate retirement package we all want, so that when we our closest to dirt and have little energy and hope left as we can live the life the way we see fit waiting for the ground to decompose our bodies and the worms eat our minds.
I guess it could be worse as at least as Americans we have a childhood to live our dreams, but given the cruelty and humor of the cycle of life we have no idea we are living the dream ,so we pout and cry through most of it. As adults you still pout and cry but instead of out loud you bottle it up inside hoping to sell it to the highest bidder on e-bay or more so match.com. It’s much eating spicy Chinese food as you enjoy the pleasure of the taste but forget the messy slides you’re going to be dealing with later on in the night.
Really things aren’t all the bad in perspective hell just looking at the TV I see that the goon jizz rag known as my Governor has been arrested for corruption. That means there are only 49 more to bust! Most men don’t mind the jizz rag under the bed for easy clean up when you need it but when it starts smelling we finally throw it out. This is no different. I plan on investigating him into much further detail as he is a great example of a fine American dream.
Well I hope you come back to and read this special report on humanity, culture, and seeking out what’s left of the American Dream.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled structure lives.
AFL
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