Maybe you'll be interested in this. Perhaps you'll be bored to tears and skip ahead to oneiromancy. NOBODY DOES THAT, LOL!!!
Back in high school, a time where I wasn't particularly young anymore but still young enough to be featured here, I was privy to a birthday. That's right a whole birthday. Can you dig it, sucka?
Anyway I received one or two checks, had my father cash them for me and was puzzled to find a card which was postmarked from NYC. On the cover was a picture of a baby and inside was a message saying it was from my little secret. Underneath the red text was a lipstick kiss.
"What?"
Fucking fat, useless, straight-C student with questionable personal hygiene. Yeah life was better now that I had switched schools for the sole purpose of being around a different group of people rather than actually pursuing a course of study in electronics. Yet even in this new environment where I declared myself to be starting over with a clean slate I still didn't have a real girlfriend and the only chick who would interact with me on a regular basis was a chick who kept boasting about how she is a recovering drug addict.
Now I didn't know anyone in NYC. Sure lots of people went into the city. But for the life of me I could not think of anyone who would perpetrate such a troll nor someone who actually might've harbored some feelings towards me. At this time I don't believe anyone at my second high school knew my home address just my hometown.
To this day it continues to puzzle me. I have no wacky conspiracy theories nor has anyone come out of the woodwork to let me know of their involvement in this ruse.
Unfortunately after Basho won the cops arrived being made up of the Super Hero Intervention Team to investigate the commotion. Bits flew off so the rest of the team could make a speedy getaway. Fancy flying allowed the little toaster to lose the four powered armor goons.
Ah shit. Jaybird told me to shut down my laptop after I showed him some chick wearing a strapon doing a cam show.
Long story short, I believe we were set up by someone. Most likely the supposed victim of the crime which got the ball rolling in the campaign. My only anxiety lay in the fact that I was a bit anxious about the fact Jaybird's character got roughed up pretty bad from an area effect attack while blind. Galligator is a decent brick (high strength, high defense) and Richard's character Priest is a bit of a cipher because it looks like he's trying to be a swiss army knife when a ka-bar would do the job.
That's just me. I should live and let live.
Now I wrestle with myself like Jacob. The point of our tussle is to end the argument that now I'm getting on people's nerves, that I am an acquired taste and too much spivak too many times tends to poison the grape Flavor-Ade. Protip: Jim Jones and Jonestown didn't serve Kool-Aid but the aforementioned sugary beverage.
Now I was in an even smaller version of my apartment looking for my Warhammer 40,000 soldiers. Half of them were missing and I was driving myself nuts trying to find them. Cursing under my breath about having an absent-minded and slovenly nature.
Later I was riding my bike through my old hometown heading up to the 'spensive neighborhood atop a five hundred foot hill. A five hundred foot hill isn't that adorable?! Instead of being mostly flat at the summit things were much more terraced and narrow. All around me people were celebrating something, heading to parties and whatnot. One house that I stopped at was Bill Murray's house. In the spirit of Eddie Murphy, Mr. Murray was playing every single member of his family. I was led downstairs to meet the patriarch. Out of courtesy I lifted the bike off the orange rug. The Murray family talked amongst themselves while I looked for a polite way out of the situation.
