[273]
12/18/2023 Monday. Papers Box. Crisis Incorporated HQ. Ridgewood, New York.
Well, I just finished setting up a new computer and instead of writing I want to punch Bill Gates in the fucking teeth. Unbelievable. I'm switching back to typewriters. You guys can get this shit by snail mail as the bridesmaids say.
Whatever. I'll stop being negative. On a negative note, Augustin and Jessica have covid. Pray for them out on the Left Coast. First time getting it. Sounds rough. Takes me back though. How can you have nostalgia about an illness? Remember when Professor Curly kept getting it? And it turned out she was just being dramatically paranoid?
On another negative nostalgia trip, Vom is flooding again. This time it's melting snow. The end of December and it's fucking melting snow flooding. I am supposed to head up there on Friday. Professor Curly on Thursday. I don't know if we can make it.
On a positive note, there is a Rod Stewart impersonator roaming around Vermont. Tricking people into thinking he is the real deal. How does he do it, you ask? Well, first, people are morons, second, seeing somebody famous is like finding a $20 bill on the ground, it triggers the same response, third, did I mention people are idiots? Fourth, when asked he didn't confirm nor deny it and because people are idiots, they just believed him. Which is fine for you and me, the regular jerks in the world, but a very serious reporter that writes for the weekly managed to run an entire story about how Rod Stewart, a giant pine of a man, was thrifting in Vergennes. Wearing leather pants, I think, buying country music cd's. See dees nuts. And, I don't know, that same weekly just did a profile on Whiskey Tit, so I am a little nervous about what they are going to print now. However, if idiocy is the best way to get the word out, maybe it is good for promotional reasons? I don't know. I mean, I believed the article because, why the fuck not? Celebs and skiing, I mean, remember just this year when Gwyneth Vagina Candle Paltrow was sued because she ran over that poor dude taking afternoon rips? But what I didn't understand was how come the people who kept seeing the guy described him as being very tall. Rod Stewart wears women's size 5 shoes. Not to height shame. But if he was looking tall up in Vermont is was because he went to Meatball Ron's cobbler. If you know what I mean. I stole that joke from Professor Curly is what I mean.
On a negative note. Professor Curly bought some Ivory soap the other day. The harshest of soaps. The soap that floats is it's tagline. It floats because it is mostly air. Remember back in the 90's when if you found the one bar of Ivory soap that sank you would win a bunch of money or something? A trip to Aruba? I can't remember. I just remember the soap being harsh as hell. Disintegrating when you used it if you used it in the bath. Today, when I was taking a shower I couldn't remember if I washed my face or not. A common occurrence. I can remember washing my body, my hair, but never my face, I don't know what that is about, but it is how it is. Sometimes I end up washing my face twice, sure, right? Or I must, right? But today, when I washed my face the second time, it burned, my face burned, the soap was so harsh that my face burned and then when I got out of the shower, when I was shaving, I notice that my left eye was bleeding, MY EYE WAS BLEEDING from the soap! When I showed Professor Curly she said:
"Look at that, you got a chemical peel!"
What kind of jerk am I engaged to?! She sees me suffering like that and only sees the positive? A few moments later she was looking up the Auschwitz diet for me on the computer. After seeing me naked, my eye bleeding. To keep me slender and sharp. Because awards season is coming up in January?
Speaking of computers, here's the thing. Can I put a period there, or should I use a comma? Here's the thing, comma. Or here's the thing. I needed a computer for my studio. Or not. I think about switching back to typewriters, but you have to buy ink for those fuckers, and paper, so, really, suck it, idea-wise. And what about the cost of a computer? Aren't they expensive, Joe? No, dear idiot Rod Stewart lovers, as long as you don't buy a good one, as long as you are willing to spend your time on the thing avoiding any and all possible places where viruses come from, you can get a PC [Personal Computer] for $189 USD, tax included.
I mean, have you ever walked into a PC Richard's & Sons and bought the cheapest computer they have? It's kind of nice. I mean, I think it is kind of good for you. You CAN'T look at porn, you CAN'T go on sketchy websites. Big files? Not really. It's a purposeful handicap. Teaches you to be mindful. Buddha-like. The innernet is a wet banana shit that gets shot into your thigh high boots by accident in the Target bathroom, you may be going there to look for calendars, but you are coming home with a brand new pair of socks.
I mean, speaking of Target. I don't even know. I have a whole bunch of anecdotes that I won't get to because of this damn computer and how long it took me to set it up. On one hand, I wish I could keep doing a nice regale for the good times, on the other hand, Screed City's days are numbered. Unless I can fracture into multiple lives, multiple people I need to spend the next year editing. And sure, this stuff is just junk, spewing nonsense for the sake of spewing nonsense, I mean, you tell me. Here is the thing I sent Professor Curly the other day, an excerpt from Yours Truly [Because You Still Care] [Italics]:
"What the fuck, man? Fuck you." He slapped the eagle. The eagle looked at him with it's beady eyes. It's huge nose. It's exhausted wings. "Yeah? You got something to say? I'll fuck you up." The eagle crouched down and hopped into the wilderness. Yours rubbed his shoulders. His elbows. His hands. His legs were wobbly. He was thirsty. He was glad that he was safe on the ground, but he had no idea how far the eagle had taken him from Truly and Demarcus. He got mad at the bird again. He picked up a rock and threw it into the woods. The eagle barked when the rock struck it's side. "Fuck you. What a dick. You're a dick! You stupid fucking eagle!"
I mean, I need to focus on my fiction.
[Insert X-Mas Tree Photo]
GET BETTER AGUSTIN AND JESSICA MERRY XMAS EVERYONE SEE YOU ON THE FLIP SIDE OF THE NEW YEAR
Don’t say bad things about Ms. Curly.
Don’t stop writing these.
Don’t switch to a typewriter. Remember white out and all that.
Keep the fiction going.
We love you. Joey