Friday, December 31, 2004
Down And Out In The Near Suburbs
Unfortunately I've run out of money. Shut up. I'm going to need a burst of creativity if I'm to achieve the nirvana-like state of pants-shittingly drunk tomorrow night. I'm going to type out loud, so to speak, to see if I can summon fundraising brilliance. Watch and laugh in derision as desperation sets in.
1. Begging. Out of the question. Not only am I young, handsome, and far too obnoxious to engender sympathy, but I haven't got any clothes with month-old dried puke stains. Plus I have all my limbs.
2. Mugging. Out of the question. I have a relatively decent police record that would show I've been an upstanding citizen ever since those drug busts and public underage drinking offences when I was 18, seven years ago. Besides, the only violence I like committing is upon my digestive tract.
3. Ebay. Out of the question. I don't have enough time to sell my possessions by tomorrow. I was booted off ebay for fraud anyways. Even if I thought of this a week ago I still couldn't have done it. I was innocent, by the way.
4. Pawn shop. Out of the question. I have nothing universally valuable that I'd part with. Stuff like televisions and guns. I have some rare comic books but they'd only give me a penny a pound for comics, if at all. It's a good thing I stopped buying those years ago or I'd be really broke now.
5. Borrow it. Possible. My roomates are unemployed, so that leaves friends and family. All friends are unemployed. Most, anyways. I see a trend. Hmm. Family? I've called in that card too much recently. Transmissions are expensive.
6. Raid the honor system candy box upstairs at work. Out of the question. Even were I that depraved and pathetic, there's only 6.75 in there anyways. Yes, I guessed. Don't look at me that way.
7. Go to parking lots at train stations and use a hacksaw to cut off the box on a pole. You know, the one full of slots for people to slide their dollars into, $1.75 each. Out of the question. With the holiday season, fewer people are attending work and the pickings are likely sparse. Last time I did this I was chased by policemen for two hours and got a spiderbite. No, I didn't get caught. Refer to aforementioned clean-ish record.
8. Sell myself to science. Out of the question. Not enough time, nor do I suffer from balding/thinning hair, asthma, panic/anxiety, or high blood pressure. The only testing I would like to participate in is alcohol poisoning threshholds & tolerance levels. I can't get paid for that. I have to pay for that.
9. Sperm bank. Probably out of the question. Even if I found one tomorrow, people don't want sperm from Illinois. I think. Supposing I wanted to be artificially inseminated by Illinois sperms, I wouldn't pick the seed of a chain-smoking alcoholic high school dropout. If I qualify, they'll probably only give me a couple bucks. If I only had a degree..... then I wouldn't need to sell my jism for cash.
10. Drug dealer. Possible. I could get an ounce of pot fronted and turn it in about 3 hours. But I don't want to. I'd feel guilty about my markup. Which is stupid, considering the risk and effort involved. Definately no.
I had better get moving on my idiotic business notions or I might repeat this agonizing scenario next year. I think I'll go with #5. Borrow it. 2005 Resolution: assault cafepress and make immature slogan t-shirts and hope like hell some assholes want them. How's that for ambition?
12:42 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
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