The Story Of My Fucking Life

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Posted by ilbebe on December 17, 2008

10. An hour ago, I got into the shower for the first time in three days. I read a little bit more of the bottle of Dr. Bronner’s magic hair-care product that my roommate keeps in the shower, and discovered that Dr. Bronner died on March 7, 1997, the day before I turned 16. I first saw one of his bottles of magic soap stuff around Arcata, but never read the label until the summer of 2007, more than ten years later, and wow, all one-ness…pretty good concept….it made me feel good…

Fuck Ronald Reagan as the governor of California and then President of this once great nation, for cutting funding for schools and hospitals and veterans centers and mental institutions, the most inhumane moment in US history at the time. The Iran hostage crisis was a scam and so was the assassination attempt. Greatest American Hero character name– coincidence?? The television program debuted on March 18, 1981, when I was ten days old, and the subsequent attempt on Reagan’s life by John Hinckley occurred when I was but twenty-two days old, and if I was any older, I would have at the nearest theater in minutes, yelling FIRE.

No. Reagan was a fucking movie cowboy. A Real Cowboy wouldn’t have been such a fucking coward. Oliver North was Reagan’s Jack Ruby and then his Lee Harvey O. Reagan was like Moe Green, lying his way to the top and then murdering the people who helped him. Bill Clinton did it to Vince Foster, and Bush did it to the innocent people of the modern nation of Iraq AND members of our own military, all for the financial gain of his father’s friends.

I was drinking MD 20/20 the day Ronald Reagan died, and I was so happy. I felt so relieved.

In the second installment of the Terminator trilogy, the Robot Death Machine is deemed irrelevant by the machines that created him, so it becomes a human sympathizer and fights his progenitors. Fuck yeah. The actor who portrayed the Terminator becomes the Governor of my state? FUCK NO.

I saw the Colbert Report explain to me how the Wall Street bailout that was under consideration by our Congress was basically the last straw in the utter and total collapse of our economy. I called in to work for the second night in a row because it wasn’t really worth doing. I talked to my roommate while she dyed her hair and speculated that the US would soon be entering a period of hyperinflation common to countries either about to undergo a revolution or in the middle of one or recovering after one, like Iran in the 70’s. I saw that this economic crash would precipitate other countries realizing that we were vulnerable for attack on our home soil for the first time since World War II. Sixty years. The war that enabled us to test a hydrogen bomb out on Bikini Atoll, an illegal test of a weapon that my adoptive grandfather personally witnessed. I realized I had to see the rest of the world in a hurry and then get home to fight in the war that was coming.

The male nurse who was attending to my birth at Sharp’s Hospital in San Diego was too busy watching the Clippers game when I was born to assist with my delivery, and I thought that that hospital was torn down to build luxury condos a few years ago, but it turns out I don’t really know where I was born. I hope to find out. I had walked around the area where I once thought it had once stood almost exactly a month ago and hadn’t feel much, and it made me sad.

I decided to print up some copies of this tome to begin the evasive tactic of going underground, and I thought that maybe I’d call my friend from Calumet City and ask him to teach me how to hotwire a car. I wondered if perhaps I should stop writing and start fighting, but then I realized that if I simply avoided using provocative keywords such as egyadhe and omeresticcalerrisme that I could use these words as my lesson. I would learn the other languages of the world, and Babylon would fall, just like John’s Revelations promised it would.

The G-d of my people, the G-d of Adam and Abraham and Isaac and Ishmael, and of Noah and Moses, and of the snake, and of Eve and Sarah and Hagar, and Rebecca and Rachel and Leah, and Jesus and Mary Magdalene, had promised us an aeon ago that the world would never be flooded again if we remained faithful to a covenant that asked merely reverence and little else. I came to believe when I was very young that some days it was okay to skip temple to do other things you wanted if you just thought of G-d and reminded yourself how lucky you were to enjoy G-d’s providence and benevolence. One time I played in a soccer game on a Saturday and scored a goal.


I changed the channel when the Colbert Report was over to American Movie Classics and found War Games. I don’t know this one ends, but I’ve gotta go get to drinking. This one’s for you, Sir Walter Raleigh, and all the Krotoans. We will meet again.


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