And Then You Can Fuck Off Some More...Louis Shalako.

Louis Shalako

Using the power of positive fucking thinking, we shall now deduce our plan for tomorrow. 

(Fuck Tony Robbins, anyways. – ed.)

< thinks furiously >

Because at this point I either don’t have one, or I have forgotten what it is.

(A plan, he means. – ed.)

Oh, yeah, my car’s all fucked up and it’s still sort of winter or ‘pre-spring’, if that makes any sense. There’s nowhere to go, actually.

Hmn.

Uh, huh.

Okay, okay, so here we go.

Ah, we shall wake up, moan and groan a bit, turn on the computer, and read shit for a while. 

Maybe even for a couple of hours, while I figure out the world—I’ve got milk for the instant coffee, which came from Walmart at about $1.97. I stole the sugar from work.

Luckily, I’m usually right and the world is often wrong. This is what keeps me sane.

We shall, ah, go somewhere and get smokes and beer or something. We shall cruise through the back lots of a few used car dealers here in town, and we shall see if there’s anything that interests us. Although there probably won’t be. Hopefully I don’t have to shit. It’s a Sunday morning. What can I say. Nothing interests me on a Sunday morning.

But having to shit is a bit of a pain in the ass. It’s like you have to go to Tim Horton’s, where the washrooms are okay but the coffee is insipid and over-priced and it’s like a scab employer and everything. So, if I could avoid that, it would probably be better…I don’t want to support them guys.

There are a few things I plan on avoiding.

The plague, herpes, unwanted wives and children. Mines, punji-sticks, ack-ack and Bolsheviks…

We shall try not to drive off of a cliff and explode, or run amuck of Vladimir Putin, or sasquatches or aliens or anything dumb like that. Although I will be having tea later on with the Evil Dr. Emile Schmitt-Rottluff, dad’s really mellowed out in recent years.

Ah, hopefully, we get to eat two or three times, shit like that. The odds are, I’ll be cooking that myself. Who the fuck else is going to do it, right…???

With a bit of luck, we shall say something funny, perhaps even perceptive, possibly bordering on superficial profundity. That will be on the internet, perhaps you can catch it there. I’m on Twitter and shit like that. Other than that, we shall be busy.

Busy, and undaunted, and indefatigable. Which is the correct spelling, however much you don’t want it to be.

Be that as it may.

We shall prevail.

We’ll take it as it comes, with a bit of music, a bit of wit, and a bit of the good old indomitable human spirit.

And if you don’t like it—

Well, then, you can just fuck right off.

And when you’re done with that, I will still be here.

And then you can fuck off some more.

END

Shit, look at all the fucking books and stories I wrote.

Thank you for reading.