Today was catch up day. So much catch up because of my sickness. Matter of fact, I had so much catch up to do that I can’t even remember what the hell this title of this post means. “End Of Level One”? I wrote this like 5 hours ago and I’m so confused. I clearly wrote it as a way to remind me of what I had to write for today. But then you start writing for the other days you’ve neglected and everything becomes mush.
SERIOUSLY, what the fuck. Sorry, but the “f” word is totally necessary . . . I feel like that was for my mom and mom-in-law. I have a filthy mouth. Sorry moms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, WHAT THE FUCK. End of Level One?
Video Game reference? Maybe. But why would I write about beating level one? What, am I 8 again and I just got a Nintendo and stayed up all night to beat Super Mario Brothers level 1? Yeah, mom, I did that. And I almost peed myself because playing a video game always trumps urination. Didn’t you ever wonder why I would wiggle my legs back and forth when I was playing video games? I wasn’t excited, I was holding back the river Nile.
Could it mean I’m happy to be on the second floor of an apartment building? God that’s lame. Why would I write that. I’ve never been on the first floor of an apartment building. Well, in college I was. That was different . . . Ha, I remember the time I was so drunk I couldn’t fish my keys out of my front pocket so I thought I lost them. I banged on the window so hard it cracked. Then I passed out i the bushes . . . first floor apartment . . . Sorry, mom . . . moms . . . and land lady whom I told a stranger broke the window.
Jesus. Did I just get through the first stage of AA? I’ve been really sick. Who knows. I mean, I could have been drunk when I wrote that . . . a celebratory drink for reaching level one. Nah, that’s in poor taste. Almost as poor as when my brother Pat and I played a drinking game while watching Intervention: every time someone drank on the show, we did too.
Oh no. . . Scientology. God no. I joined Scientology. My Thetons made me do it! Like the time I was coaxed into taking a Scientology personality test in London. I had no idea what it was and I kept having this weird feeling someone was watching me. Then I turned around and a giant 6 foot bust of L. Ron Hubbard was staring at me. That was weird. Right John Travolta?
You know what screw it. I’m keeping the title. I’m also moving on. This post sucks. Have a great day. Intervention is on.