That's the last time I go to Dr. Acula."
-Mitch Hedberg
"Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards."





Cancer All of a sudden something clicked in my head, “Where’s my wallet?”
I walked a couple of blocks and the streets are empty. It’s getting late and it’s already dark outside. I start circling nervously pondering what the hell I’m going to do since I now, do not have anyway to get money and now I’m a nameless person in society since the proof of my existence, other than my passport was in that wallet.
Thoughts of being homeless start entering my mind. It’s scary. I’ve never eaten at a soup kitchen before.
Then the idea of having no identity starts to appeal to me. Michael Knight didn’t have an identity and he got to fight crime and drive that awesome car Kit on the hit TV show Knight Rider.
Fuck yeah! I’ll have no identity and it will rule!
Then reality kicks in...
I start freaking out again…
Then at my deepest darkest point of disgust and hatred for humanity Leigh comes walking down the street. She’s puts her arm around me. I keep my hands in my pockets. We start walking down the street again. The quest is back on, but I’m still pissed. She’s talking game plans for finding my wallet and I’m cursing under my breath at the fact that I’ll probably never see my wallet again.
“Johnny, there are some restaurants down here. Maybe those guys were going to eat.”
She’s right. Not to mention the fact that Leigh actually saw these wallet snatchers. She can ID them. Maybe I’ll get my wallet back and be able to fight crime at the same time I’ll still have an identity then, but who cares David Hasselhoff had bad hair and made gross music anyway.
As we move down the street I begin to hope that the two men who had acquired my wallet are gay. I have no idea why this thought entered my mind, but it seemed like a nice thought. Gay men stereotypically have more money than me and are usually decently honest in matters like these. I would rather them pick it up than say a homeless person who only wants cash and after realizing there isn’t any in my wallet decides to discard it into a storm drain.
Once we got down the street we start entering restaurants. Leigh runs into some ice cream parlor looking shop and gets a dumb founded look from the patron working behind the counter. Damn it! The guys who found my wallet apparently didn’t stop for a scoop of cookies n’ cream.
We cross the street and go into the pizza parlor/bar. I go straight for the bar tender. That’s the sensible place to drop off a wallet.
He’s clueless.
I glanced into the dining room and Leigh is speaking with two men sitting at a booth. They look kind of super. And what’s this, they’re handing her something.
Is it a piece of pizza?
There’s no way in hell that these are the dudes. I gave it a 7% chance of finding my wallet. Has the other 93% been defied? Does God answer prayers over lost wallets even when the person praying has been cursing the day he was created for the last 30 minutes?
“Holy Shit!”
I’m still standing there.
“Johnny, buy them some drinks.”
I wake up. “You guys want a round of beers?”
They declined. I took a closer look. They were gay.
I rejoice in my heart.
Leigh rejoices.
The homosexual community rejoices.
The Angels in Heaven rejoice.
Life is good.






I'm sure at some point in everyone's life they wake up one morning and say to themselves,
"Where the hell am I and how did I get here?"
Note to reader – This post is about enduring the hardships of working for a company that use to employ me, but I resigned from them. The new company I work for bought them (the old company I worked for) out and I now have the same bosses that pigeon holed me at my last job. This has been going on for almost a year. I’m not bitter anymore though, just fucked. I honestly find it amusing, humorous and revolting all at the same time.



