Drivel, Chapter 1

My God, People! I once made payments on vacuum cleaner. But I have not fucked it. No! Seriously, the powerfully motor and micron level filtration worries me more than it turns me on. I have thing about vacuum cleaners.

Won $33 on the lottery the other day; reinvested in more tickets. Back down to $15. You see folks, that's how you make money. If I don't when some damn lottery money soon, all hell is gonna break loose.

I know a guy that might train me to do stained glass work. I'd be more excited if I could make money doing that. Nobody will hire me because I am simultaneously over and under qualified. It gets confusing for me.

I am not sure what you would call how I make a living. It's like a career, only it pays less.

There is, however, a steady source of beer and liquor. I am on a first name basis with clerks at two liquor stores. In Tennessee, you must be 21 to sell alcohol. At the food mart, all the clerks are high schoolers. To scan beer, checkers call the dreaded "Code 2" over the PA system. Then an adult comes, checks my ID and scans my beer. Last week, I walked into the food mart, only one register was open and nobody was in line. Barely 30 feet into the store when I hear "Code 2 on register 1" The girl looked at me and said "You always get beer."

Currently I am considering taking back up smoking, stopping brushing my teeth and moving my family into a trailer. Then I'll scatter trash and random shit all over my yard and the front of the "manufactured home." Perhaps then, I can split my time between sitting in front of the TV and in the ER waiting room (watching TV). I could get excited about the first Thursday of the month; that's when the government checks come in the mail.

I feel myself being sucked into a stereotype.

Send me pictures of your vacuum cleaners.

Dirty Ert