storytelling

i think my father's in a cult, but he doesn't want to talk about it. i know they brainwash you in cults and with scientology and their d/dx's* and then tell you to keep it a secret. and i keep asking him about where he goes all day but they told him to say that he goes to "work". yeah, right, if "work" was a place where you wear neat, new, nwhite* nikes, and drink fruit punch all day, while talking about chakras and meditation, then maybe. but they've seriously got him to think that doing cult-activities like changing oil and doing tune-ups from nine-to-five for a paycheck in a cult is called "working". its probably already too late. he likes tom cruise way too much. i dont know where im going with this story... well i guess i just screwed up this story-telling joke. no. you just screwed up reading it. yes, it was your fault. just like global warming, your parents' divorce, and why it stings when you pee. everything is your fault.

but seriously. what am i still doing awake? its not because i'm a loser. it's probably because i'm a big, gigantic winner. a winner of consciousness*.







footnote #1: derivatives
footnote #2: i was going for alliteration.
footnote #4: i skipped #3
footnote #5: "conscienceness" if "consciousness" was wrong. and i dont like this post/note but i spent so much time on it that if i deleted it now i'd probably be sad and join a cult. i'm due for a tire-rotation.