Today, I am sitting in a room, with forty computers and eighty college students. The main character is not here, I am a supporting character, and when he isn't here, I of course stop existing . I am listening to The Kills, I am typing and realizing.
There is the man bob. I am quite excited to have the man bob in existence today, because he flushed my toilet 11 times…to no avail. The man bob haggled with my landlord, hoping to get some poetry out of our little arrangement… to no avail. The man, that is, the man bob, has shrunken two and a half inches in the last forty years. We believe it to be a result of massive beer consumption.
Once, Bob read a blog. He sifted through its pages and posts only to realize he needed to flush my toilet again. Then he stopped reading the blog. Later, he gave it another go, shortly after killing half of a cockroach. Finding the Scarsdalekings he shrugged, winked at the computer screen, and screamed. The commas were out of place, the style was sophomoric at best, the ideas were feebly conveyed, and most importantly, the words were not words. He read the words and realized the words were not words. No, not words, but replacements for words. On the site Word meant Party, Bob meant homophobe, or student, and on and on and on. The words, letters, phrases were so deceitful and evil and plaguing, the man Bob shrugged, winked, and screamed. And then he ate it. He ate the blog, or as it is in reality, sandwich, and he never spoke to me again.
Damnit.
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