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PastPoop7/16/2003-Power to the ProletariatOkay, I haven’t shit to write tonight, merely cause my tech support(coughbarnyardcough* is unreachable by phone , I’m posting an excerpt of a piece of shit I’m writing about a stupid yet monumental phase of my life. Also this begins the path that lead to me to actually meet Barnyard. Bear in mind this is completely tentative, so if you hate it, fuck you, but be sure to let me know. Also, our real names have been edited because we don’t want you to know who we are. That, and I’m under investigation for theft of soiled panties.. Now, avanti.....Blockbuster Chronicles (tentative) A tale of no particular interest lived, regurgitated and written by: insidious_t This book is dedicated to my life mate Cathy, my daughters Nicole, and Emily, Kevin Smith for basically chronicling my life with Clerks, Barnyard Messiah, my ally and common soul thru a good slice of this episode of my life, and finally L. Ron Hubbard for the hours of psychological comedy. Chapter 1: Triumph des Willens \\\"I ain't no chief, I'm just a regular failure, I ain't straight outta Compton, I'm straight outta the trailer.\\\" -Kid Rock- \\\"Cowboy\\\". October, 1998. It was a cold and dreary season for the moist and unpleasant slice of land known as Everett, in the pitiful land of Washington State. Everett is a northern province of the city of Seattle, which by this time had become a decadent haven for the blue-collar working class that lived beyond their means and forced the national percentage of welfare to climb. Crime was rampant, immigration aplenty, especially from Russia and its former Soviet satellites, and there was a huge state recession caused by incompetent leadership, greedy spending, and public works no one gave a shit about. ‘Twas during the recently passed summer I decided to become a member of this lovely community. I had lived on Whidbey Island in the Puget Sound for the previous 8 years, living in the greatest redneck, inbred, (literally, families actually did interbreed amongst themselves, look in a Whidbey phone book, you'll see.) and the most culturally backward community west of the Mississippi. I was 20 at the time, and had a daughter with my future wife, and I was living with my parents. I had no job, no direction, but I had a GED, and was attending community college for no particular reason. I was set to spread my wings. After we secured state assistance for an apartment in the loveliest drug running street in Everett, I lingered around all summer, until August when I was married, and went back to college for another semester. However, as December loomed, I was forced to find work so my wife could finish her degree to be a drug counselor. I was a bit hesitant, as I was fond of my sloth behavior, and I was attending college part time. On top of that, Resident Evil 2 had just been released for the Playstation, and it was my duty to eliminate zombiedom wherever it lurked. My arguments against steady employment were furthered: I suffer from depression and anxiety and was on medication; we were only paying 20 bucks a month for rent, why should I work? Then my bride brought me down by mentioning our daughter's welfare, Christmas was near, and the fact we needed money for food since the state was being a dipshit and wouldn't give us food stamps for much longer. Damn. Since my desire to eat even supercedes my need for electronic entertainment, I began a search. Half-assed as it was it was still a search. Cathy, my wifey poo, suggested I seek employment in a field of my interests. She's a genius, for at that moment I was filling out an application to be Burger King's newest Fry-Chimp. So, heeding this worldy advice, I applied at a nearby video store. They weren’t currently hiring but persistence wins in the end. After haranguing the store manager Jeannette for a month, I finally landed an interview. I was in like sin. I prepped for the interview. I shaved, showered, and even donned my best garb for maximum effect. I was happier than a pig in shit. I knew I was going to land this. It was destiny. I arrived for the interview and waited for Jeannette to quit fingering herself or whatever she was doing. After 20 minutes she finally appeared. Little did I know this was to set the pattern for many things to come. She shook my hand with the firm grip of a dungeness and introduced herself. She briefly looked over my application and resume, looking as though she was actually reading. After a brief 20 seconds she said; “ Come with me.” We walked across the droves of celluloid goodness and made our way to the back office via the ‘break room’, which in fact was merely an extension of the bathroom. We entered the office and sat down across from each other. Again, she scanned over the resume and attached application with focused determination. At first I thought she was going to be a tough interview; it seemed as though she was looking for weaknesses in my work history, or peripherally looking at me for agitation but I learned later she merely had difficulty reading my chicken scratch penmanship. As I sat fascinated by her blank stare, I began to wonder if this wasn’t a mistake after all. Little did I know how prophetic those words truly were.... Alright, that ends for now your glimpse of my bullshit. Hey, I wanna make money off this someday. Post your knocks, boosts, and suggestions. My next piece will be quite good, if I can ever reach Barnayrd for some technical pewp. Until then, I smell like... -Insidious_T |
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