After I slayed the monster, seven terrifying kittens crawled out of her trash can heart. They spoke to me in whispers, they told me the horrific truth about my true nature and that the monster I’d just killed was my mother. It opened a hole in me that all the Cap’n Crunch in the world couldn’t fill.
I did hideous things to forget myself. I was human toilet paper, I was a writer on Chelsea Lately, I was paid to masturbate inside of a bee hive.
It was as if I was constantly being taunted by outer-space, by telepathic stars confiding in me their disapproval. I felt unsafe in my head, like I might explode into madness at any moment. I shot up massive quantities of horse tranquilizers and watched a lot of TV. One day, for no reason I will crawl out of this hole. I’ll go to McDonalds, eat a McRib and burn down this pitiful little reality.
Actually? The truth is, I’ve crawled out of my hole three or four times now and went to a McDonalds but they never have the McRib, I guess its a only available for limited times which according to a 2011 study correlates to domestic pork prices?
So I’m just stuck sitting around waiting for the price of pork to drop… dreaming of being, smothered in my own sassy sauce.
