Gandhi #9: Drifting Backward While in Neutral

Almost Comatose
by Gandhi Mangler


After reading the latest piece from Deoxy Xyloflux (neé Vomit God), finding it refreshingly blunt and vague, I decided to return to this dark, hidden stone among duller stones.

Things I've done in the past six months:

1. Attempted to move to Portland, Oregon in a vain attempt to get laid. Three days after arriving, I was on a bus headed back to the opposite coast. For the same price, I could've had ten (syphilitic) hookers.

2. Began smoking in Portland. After five months, I've smoked thirteen cigarettes. I wish I could get addicted to these wonderful products, develop lung cancer like a real man, and die before I become incontinent. I have a gene that prevents me from getting addicted to anything; it's probably the same gene that prevents me from making commitments.

3. Read twelve books in two months and haven't read any in the last three. Two days ago, I picked up a book, yawned, then opened it. I must have developed a stigma against tangible books by reading too many archived internet articles, especially those by Auberon Waugh, Taki Theodorocropulous, Jim Knipfel, and Heather Havrilesky. Plus some about Evolutionary Psychology, which makes sense to me. We're still animals (and not cyborgs, which of course is better because you get a cool name like "The Terminator" but you have to melt yourself after you save the Earth, but who cares because you're just a machine anyway, right?) and we evolved into what we are, the same process as the other animals, so our actions should be related to our evolutionary characteristics.

4. Gave my mom a homemade videotape of the Omen trilogy for Mother's Day. She doesn't like horror movies but I ran out of time to find a real gift. I don't think she thanked me. It's just as well; I don't think I thanked her for that aqua Gameboy she bought me for my 21st birthday that I still haven't used.

5. Assembled an appalling red metal Coca-Cola swing for my mom to redeem myself from the Omen debacle. Now I have to mow around another fucking contraption in the yard. I hate mowing lawns and that's why I don't take breaks when I do it. I leave the mower's engine running even when I tie my shoes, which always come unlaced every goddamn time. Goddamn lawns. Goddamn green-stained Airwalk shoes.

6. Worked another dreadful election day last month. Instead of the prison guard, an airheaded trailerpark-dweller sat next to the ballot box. This time, I tried to get fired by screwing up the paperwork. I ripped open an envelope after sealing it, mixed up my job title on several documents, and miscounted the ballots. I haven't been called about it and both checks they sent me cleared. The second check was for attending the half-hour training video session--for which I arrived twenty minutes late but my check amount was the same as everyone who saw the whole thing. Apparently election workers can't be fired. I'll be working the mayorial election on June 11.

7. Realized that the only cooking device I'll ever need is a toaster. Praise be to Pillsbury and the Hot Pockets people for making toaster food for every occassion. I also realized that cereal never solves anything. In fact, if you think cereal is a good idea, then you're avoiding something, most likely work. I am beginning to believe the same applies to popsicles.

8. Stopped watching television (four days ago). Summer's arrival means no new "Simpsons" and "Andy Richter" episodes in the next four months. However, I will watch "Evolution" on PBS because PBS doesn't count.

9. Walked quickly out of my bedroom today when Granny Alzheimer's drifted in, called me "Tom" (her old neighbor's name), and started whispering in incoherent sentences. One of these days she'll start killing people like that granny from MST3K's "A Touch of Satan." I hope she doesn't start her spree when I'm at her house, mowing her goddamn son-of-a-bitch lawn. Its mowable grass is scattered between rocks, bigger rocks, walnuts, tree roots, fallen branches, more rocks, and bush-like trees that only grow high enough for their branches to smack my face as I mow. Oh, and half of it is a steep hill. Goddamn empathy (and money-lust).

Oh, and I stuck my finger in my asshole in April. I thought it would change my life, but it felt like purgatory, like Switzerland, neither good nor bad: neutral.

"Quotes are now forbidden because they were designed to distract readers from my ignorance by stealing ideas and pretending they were my own." -- Gandhi Mangler