Let me tell you a few things about me that may not be visibly evident:
- My demographic cohort is “White Devil,” although I prefer the softer, more inclusive “Person of Non-Color,” or PONC.
- My memory’s not what it once was. Actually, it was never what it once was. So sometimes I tie a piece of string around my dick as a reminder to jerk off later. But then I forget and wonder, “Who put this piece of string around my dick? And why?”
- Ninety-five percent of the time I’m thinking about sex. The other 5 percent I’m thinking about why I’m not thinking about sex.
- I’m on the back nine, so to speak, so I’ve been thinking about how best to spend the rest of my time among the living. I’ve decided to catalog my regrets and curate my resentments. Something for the kids to remember me by.
- I’ve already begun an “Ingratitude List,” which I peruse at bedtime to remember how annoying the day was, and again in the morning for a sense of personal mission.
- Once a week, I call the Suicide Hotline over an ex. It’s not very helpful. They refuse to offer tips on how to gaslight people into hanging themselves. But I’ll keep trying!
- Just once I’d like to be able to fart in an elevator and watch people’s expressions without being fingered as the source. Or without being fingered at all.
So that’s me, in a nutshell.