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.
