(last night)there’s a man somewhere sweating his life away down some bleak highway with a gas can and nowhere to fill it, and here I am in summer heat without a clue about how to get on the internet to do what i have to do, what is required of me at this time besides throwing down cash for network cards and beer, like a fool i’ve been dicking around with comcast and their bullshit, a whole lot of my own bullshit and the threatening notion that to get by in this brief portion of life it’ll take a new computer or another new part to put into the old one, of course i still owe, we all do, but me especially since i’m officially the duct tape douchebag with a system too old to breathe, let alone connect me to the world outside of this dank basement room full of particles in the air…but now i’m just acting foolish, as i’m known to do.
i owe – it’s as simple as that.
having known this for quite a while now, it’s only reality catching up with me here, letting me know that oil changes alone will not cut it, that for christ’s sake i need to treat this bump in the road like a CONSUMER goddamnit! the flag outside of my house has stars and stripes, so it’s about time i got with the program and forked over that dough for something new, like i’m supposed to, so years from now they all won’t laugh at me like they do now, jeering and sniveling around my possessions like teenagers talking about how my existence is “so last year” after which they all laugh in unison and here i am stuck nonetheless with noone but Jesus to save me…and even then i’ve still got to find a way to get on the internet so i can finish this assignment for this class i need credit for to receive the diploma, the piece of paper that indicates i’m not as stupid as i look or sound, but in fact could be just the guy to squeeze a few years of paychecks out of you before the cat is finally out of the bag, until it is obvious to everyone that a grave mistake was made along the way, perhaps one that could cost the firm some well earned prestige, this lout trying to fix a machine more complicated than his own brain as if it were a toaster or a bicycle missing a chain.
shit…just jiggle the somabitch, give it few hard raps on the head then maybe see if it’s thirsty.
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