paranoia diary 6/1/09
Cassie woke me up a few nights ago because she heard some weird noises and wanted me to investigate. Pretty classic husband/wife move.
So I wandered out into the night in search of any prowler or ghost that may be lying in wait. I’ve done this about a million times before and also I was pretty sure it was just the cat. All the same—the stillness of the house, the darkness of the room, the extreme poorness of my vision all contributed to me feeling like a tiny man in ridiculous underpants.
This is by no means the first “realize how cosmically insignificant you are” moment I’ve ever had but rather the most recent in a series of 10 billion or so. Anyways I went back to sleep and upon waking, did what any insecure American would do: bought a weapon on the internet. I chose baseball bat! 1) so I could also use it to knock a few dingers in the park and 2) due to some deep-seated romanticism surrounding baseball bats from reading Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. They just seem to be Platonic-world-of-forms perfect real world objects. ANYWAYS. It’s not like holding a baseball bat in these pasty noodly appendages is going to increase my cosmic power footprint at all; it’s no cosmic cube. I’m thinking of it more like a midnight spirit totem for rerouting insecure-energies into CRIMINAL/GHOST WHACKING POWERZ.
I also bought a self defense pen. It is a super hard, reinforced permanent marker that can be used as a bludgeon. NO MORE FEAR OF BRIGANDS WHILE DRAWING CARTOONS IN THE LIBRARY ON MY LUNCH BREAK. Dramatization:
Fin.
