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05/02/09(Sat)00:41:33 No.4142276Alrighty then... picture this if you will.
10
to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes, in my "need to know"
pose, just outside of Area 51, contemplating the whole "chosen people"
thingy
When a flaming stealth banana split the sky like one
would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this. Cutting
right angle donuts on a dime and stopping right at my Birkenstocks, and
me yelping "Holy fucking shit!"
Then the X-Files being looking
like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan with Isabella Rossellini lips,
and breath that reeked of wanilla Chig Champa did a slow-mo Matrix
descent outta the butt end of the banana vessel and hovered above my
bug-eyes, my gaping jaw, and my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip, and
all I could think was "I hope Uncle Martin here doesn't notice that I
pissed my fuckin' pants."
And after calming me down with some
orange slices and some fetal spooning, E.T. revealed to me his singular
purpose. He said, "You are the Chosen One, the One who will deliver the
message. A message of hope for those who choose to hear it and a
warning for those who do not." Me. The Chosen One. They chose me. And I
didn't even graduate from fuckin' high school.
You believe me,
don't you? Please believe what I've just said. Say the dead ain't
touring and this wasn't all in my head. See, they took me by the hand,
and invited me right in. Then they showed me something. I don't even
know where to begin.
Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my
position. Such a heavy burden now to be the One. Born to bear and bring
to all the details of our ending, to write it down for all the world to
see. But I forgot my pen, shit the bed again... typical. |