This morning I left my job with fists thrown high! Why? Because it was my last god damned day behind that god damned desk at those god damned hours! 12 am to 8 am shifts are some of the hardest shifts to do. While you can be productive and complete 6 hours of homework at a time you start to lose your mind as your body is pushing through the seconds of life awake that should be spent snoozing within the warm bosom of your bed.
Just imagine it- that life sucking, cushioned cloud of excellent pleasure. The natural recharge button is hit the moment your head hits that pillow. The bed absorbs the shock of your body pressed against the memory foam. What does it memorize you ask? It memorizes exactly what you like. You like a bed that sucks you in by only a few inches? Be my guest. But real pros are the ones that go for the beds that take you down a silky warm river of soy milk as you lay flat on the surface with your naked body exposed to the perfectly cooling night.
But I wasn’t doing any of that. I was sitting in the muggy and grimy feeling surfaced desk that somehow has a fully operating Dell computer that looks like it came from the early 90s. Meanwhile God himself took my eyes, cracked them open on the frying pan and began to make eyes over easy for his morning breakfast. There I was, so many god damned times this year sitting and looking at a screen that would fill my mind with just enough sanity to make it through.
Eventually, though, that sanity disappears. It’s 4 in the morning and you have various obligations to keep you awake. It could be homework or something as simple as the fact that your binge watching needs haven’t been satisfied yet. Regardless, you’re up and you’re not going to sleep anytime soon. So your mind takes on two personas. There’s the one persona that is in charge of being aware of reality and what is directly in front of you. There is the other persona that starts to think really weird shit. The kind that begins to lose complete natural thought and completely spirals into tangent thought.
Here is what I remember from a few nights ago:
Fuck I’m tired. Wow, those lights are bright. This movie is good. Jason Statham is so fucking hot. I mean I’m straight. I’m as straight as a motherfucking rainbo- I mean light pole. Duh. Fuck I’m tired. But seriously, why is Statham’s jaw so perfect. I would really like to have that kind of a jaw. It makes me wonder, with all of the Hollywood surgeries for big time starts- do they surgically get that kind of stuff done or is Jason just simply that fucking hardcore to the point where his jaw line could cut paper. I think he actually can cut paper with that… and his abs… FOCUS CHAZ. You’re not gay. Stop thinking of his abs… and sexy jaw line. STOP IT. Scarlett Johansson. She’s hot. She has a pretty attractive body. That ginger hair. Those innocent lips. Those rock hard abs. That sexy jaw line. DAMMIT, YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN. LEAVE STATHAM ALONE! Okay, okay. You’re not gay. Yes, you’ve kissed 5 guys in your time but that’s what happens when your past involves high school theater. I wonder what’s going on with all of my gay friends from theater. I bet they’re just having a fun time. Why did they go to other schools and myself San Francisco? I mean I am straight, right? Right.
Alright, tonight’s assignment. “Straighten” me up. I’m so fucking tired. Chick A was so hot. I’d bang that any day. Hell ya. So hot. B, though- Chick B was alright. She could lose a few pounds but hey, her specialties skyrocket in skill above the rest. Chick C- I wonder how she’s doing. I mean we’re still friends but really? Is she doing okay in that department. Eh. Who knows.
Yep, straightened. Excellent. For the record, there were more chicks to that list, but that’s all I needed to remind me who I am. Who Am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery? Crap. Really? You’re singing show tunes? SHOW TUNES? So were going back to a relating topic where I kissed 5 guys in my life… so far. Shit. I’m only 20. Chances are, another guy will kiss me. Fuck it, pucker up mother fucker. I’m ready for this shit. If it is to be it is up to me. I believe I saw that on a poster with Shaqille O’neal. Damn, I used to think that guy was the best. Then I found out he sucked at free throws. But I’ve heard of people like that. Some people find it much more difficult to do the more basic actions while at the same time completing tasks that are way more complicated at above satisfactory levels. My roommate is better at doing skate tricks at a higher level than the basic tricks. I myself like to write full feature length films as appose to short films.
Fuck short films. I can reach for the stars. I WILL THRIVE, for Christ sake! I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky… Shit, now I got that song stuck in my head. I think about it every night and day. Spread my wings and – FUCK OFF SONG – fly away. I believe I can soar! Fine I’ll watch Jason Statham kick drug dealers asses while listening to the cheesiest rendition of inspiration towards the human spirit.
See Space Jam? You were a good movie, but because you were so iconic we now got stupid songs like this one flying all over the place and ruining people’s lives. Do you understand, Space Jam? My life is ruined now… because of you. My life… because of you. I used to love cartoons. Spongebob was my favorite. SHIT! Now his laugh is on repeat in my heat. “Dahahahahahahahahha.” Patrick is joining in like the pink asshole he is, “Weewooweewooweewooweewoo.” How much of this can I endure?
Suddenly, a resident with drooped down pants below his rear approaches the desk like he’s going to assault me. He slams his pale white hands on the desk.
“Yo I need yo’ help, bro,” he says over confidently.
“One, I’m not your bro and- Never mind. What do you need?”
“I got locked out of my room, bro. Can you help me man? I’m tired.”
Don’t even fucking talk to me about tired.
“Sure. I’ll call the guy right now and he will walk you up to your room and you’ll be good.”
“Shit man. Thanks bro.”
“Again, I’m not your bro-… Never mind.”
I make the call and notify the pasty white thug that the guy in charge will be down to help in 5 to 10 minutes.
15 minutes later the job is done.
That motherfucking pasty white asshole. I’d fucking take him by his hair and drag him down this hallway long enough to hear him wince in pain and break his head between the door and the door frame on the other end of the corridor. Watch his juices repaint the floors with bright color, take my hands and draw on the white walls, “Here lies a phony.” Yeah I fucking said it! I would do it. No you wouldn’t. Yes I would. You want to fight? No, I’m just saying you’re ridiculous bro. Are you calling me ridiculous? I’m saying your attitude is ridiculous. Let’s fucking go. Left jab! Right jab. Kick to the croch. Suddenly the insane persona just splits into three personas. The third persona? Hey guys, come on. Chaz needs our help. You guys going insane. This is pathetic. The two other aggressive personas look at the pacifistic persona. What the fuck did you say, they both say at the same time. Oh shit, the third persona says realizing he made a grave mistake. Suddenly a dust cloud of cartoon smoke rumbles and tumbles in Chaz’s cranium.
Ow, this headache sucks.
All three are at it kicking and punching and screaming like maniacs until they press so hard against each other that a POP is heard. Suddenly the three personas are just one persona. Phwew! That was a close one.
Cat’s are intimidating creatures. Great transition mind. Thank you. They are house pets, or are at least seem that way but one thing is for sure. They’re training to take over the world. Cat’s are our pets for now just so they can study our ways, observe our weaknesses and strike when the time is right. Their leader? Catolph Mitler. With Meowser tanks lined up along the battle fields humans won’t stand a chance against the evolving cat. Yes they are evolving. Growing up, the big fact about cats was that they all hated water. Suddenly, I’m watching a series of cat videos where cats are swimming in water. EVOLUTION. Now they’re showing videos of them sneaking up on one another, having street fights, fighting off crocodiles and etc. That’s just training. We’re the mission that follows the training. It’s frightening, man. They’re going to kill us all. Catolph Mitler will slaughter us all.
Oh look the movie ended. Time to take a nap!