This is something I found that I had written to my friend in a letter a few weeks back:
I was born to have a problem w/authority. Just like Michael Jackson was born to moonwalk and do sick things to little boys. (sometimes these 2 actions occurred simultaneously, i’ve heard.) but anyways, i have a problem w/being told what to do. I mean, out of the four choices below pick a place that roxy would not be happy: 1) a party 2) a party 3) the marines 4) a party. (turn your monitor upside down at the bottom of this page for the answer) So you can imagine how surprised i was one day when the marines called me saying that their records showed i had somehow conveyed an interest in them. so i pulled my handy-dandy set of pocket encyclopedias out of my jeans to see the ways that interest can be conveyed. apparently this happens when you show no obvious signs of wanting something. the idea that interest is conveyed by means of calling, emailing or sending in a card is a myth believed by millions. however it is mere propaganda that was started by either mussollini, donald trump or several bored mid-wives in a 3rd world country. no one is quite sure wh/one is responsible. of course we’re still not quite sure whether or not there is a difference btw. the 3! it’s being researched by harvard as soon as they run out of other pointless studies such as why bananas grow up instead of down or why some people pronounce either w/an ee sound at the beginning and why some pronounce it w/a brup sound at the beginning. so anyway i pointed out that i had never shown interest. “you’re just playing hard-to-get,” he replied cheerfully.the recruiter asked me a few basic questions about myself then moves onto more personal ones like, “have you ever been arrested? no? what would you like to be arrested for? are you mentally ill? do you fantasize sleeping w/your dead great great gramma?” so i answered them, not knowing quite else how to get out of this conv. i pointed out once again that i had not shown any interest. “well now you’re just giving me mixed signals,” he complained. so b-4 i could protest he was like, “see you tues @ 11.” i shouted, “no means no.” but he took that as a sign of interest and hung up. and they don’t believe in doing things backasswards (to my chagrine) in the marines. the marine recruiter checked up at 11. exactly. on tues. so she starts telling me how i’m over the weight limit and i’m fat. (i am average. maybe a few pounds overweight for normal standards!)then she decides to tell me in the same breath how marines will boost my confidence. (keep telling me i’m fat! i am just starting to fall in love w/myself all over again!)anyway, she’s like, “when you walk on stage all proud and ram rod straight, people will be like (dramatic pause)…”Oh look 2 little squirrels!” i giggle and she clears her throat angrily. “squirrels, ma’am?” she points out towards the back deck of my house where there were indeed two little squirrels. “oh,” i say. feeling stupid. i shoulda known that there were 2 squirrels fighting. i guess fat people are stupid. god, this self confidence thing is amaaazing. this woman was very big on asking questions that i didn’t know how to answer. she said, “after you finish boot camp, if we tell you to jump a hurdle, what do you do?” “jump over it?” i guess i just logically assumed that. “no, you tear ’em down,” she says looking at me w/the disgust usually reserved for creepy crawlies and barbara streisand impersonators. (that one’s for you becca!) so i sit there hoping she’ll give me a chance to redeem myself. she’s like, “and when your officers shake your hand upon completion of boot camp, what will you do?” humans learn from their mistakes supposedly. “tear ’em down?” i ask timidly. yep, the marines sure are a confidence booster. “nooooo. you probably cry,” she says shaking her head. “oh that was my next guess.” so she tells me about the last test of boot camp. “and what do you think you’ll do when faced w/this obstacle?” “probably cry?” i say. “nooo. you will work to acheive it.” “well that what IIIII would do.” they haven’t called me back. guess they must’ve mistunderstood my interest.
if you got tattooes on the inside of your eyelids would you see it when you closed your eyes? if so, i would get a pic of a monkey flinging it’s poop. pure unadulterated entertainment. i may write more later. serendipity doo-dah…so hold your bladders. 🙂
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