A Dedication To The Misadventure of My Life
"When you're a kid, you have no idea what you'll be doing in the long run. Ask me what I want to be at ten and I would probably shrug my shoulders in a confused manner, trying to think hard enough how I could stay out past my curfew riding my bike and finding new places to break shit. At sixteen, I still wouldn't really have a clue. I would probably say musician; music at that time became the greater part of my days and nights. But momentum really has had its moments as the years have rolled by. Ask me then what I would be doing at twenty-one, and I don't think I could have told you that I was cleaning cum off of the video arcade walls at 3am in some porn store just outside of St. Cloud, MN. Then again, we never really know where we're going until we get there."
That;s right folks. I've actually cleaned off the fruits of some unknown man's loin's in the dark back room of a pornaographic video store. Much respects to the fellow workers of that industry. Sure I could say, "hey, its their own goddamn fault for being uneducated assholes who chose to throw their lives away," but if you think about it, those people will never really stop fulfilling that part of society. Drugs are the newest form of population control. Natures way of eliminating the weak from the race. So long as I take care of my own, I could give two shits what happens to those who would so choose to take part in destructive habits.
But back to the topic at hand...
The porn store episode is only one of my countless number of interesting and odd experiences since leaving the southlad; the homestead of my youth. Since my time back in good ol' Joplin, Missouri I have encoutered clinically insane people in mass quantities, been a disc jockey for both local bars and the nearby strip club, (which is an entire story in and of itself), turned twenty-one, felt the ungodly wrath of the northern cold, to which I'm made fun of for constantly, and yes folks, as sad as it is to say, had a very healthy dose of Justin Timberlake, (I'm slowly but surely recovering from that one.)
It has been a ride, and I feel that this will be the consummation of my collective adventures abroad in the great stinking world we all live and wander upon. So please relax and light a cigarette, because it only gets stranger from here on in.
-The poet, the idiot, the Charlie, signing off.
