Sincerly, S.L.

I have "The Sack Artist is your best friend" tattooed on my forehead backwards. I think people find it off putting. Another just says "Stupid Fuck". I don't know if I can keep this up.

I have lost all of my RPS matches by forfeit. During the first, I forgot why I was standing in a circle facing another person. My opponent threw rock and I interpreted it as an attack. I strangled him with a microphone cord (a la The Wedding Singer). Every subsequent morning I awoke in a hotel room unaware of how I got there and wondering where Snarles and the Jetski where.

Every day that I didn't begin working on the blog, I would spend listening to The Cure, Joy Division, and Meatloaf while consuming as many as many Barbershots as Übersapienly possible. I went through 32 bottles of aftershave and mouthwash in a week. 53 dollars well spent. Because I was almost out of money, in my down time I devised a plan to make more. The world Championship of Rock, Paper, Scissors. A tournament of three throw RPS games. The plan seemed oddly familiar.

Losing my memory has been quite unsettling. Most days I would lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I would try to stay in bed all day, but would eventually get lured out by the pistol I had intended to kill myself with. After becoming fully aware of how much of a sackless pussy who can't pull a trigger I was, I would sit at my computer. Typing. Because, surprise: I can read and write, although I prefer the dragon speech software for a number of reasons:
1. I find the echo of my voice, which exists only on the very edge of perception, from the closet I work in to be soothing.
2. Freeing up my hands allows me to remove the filling from multiple Oreo cookies and store it for later consumption
3. I speak as I type and also tend to talk with my hands. It is often difficult to find a happy medium between nonverbal communication and effective keyboarding. All too often, I am midway through a phenomenal sentence when one or both of my hands floats off to gesture.

Working off of these notes it is really difficult to know what to type. Stuff is scrawled onto my arms, some of it is crudely tattooed with a pen. I'm not really sure how long has been going on.

I decided to pattern my anterograde amnesia after the movie "Memento". In it, the lead character, played flawlessly by Guy Pearce, witnesses the rape and murder of his wife. He is then subjected to blunt force trauma and is left unable to make new memories and goes on a merciless killing spree. Masterful. (The movie progresses from end to beginning in five minute segments as to simulate the main character's condition). Seeking my own personal spousal rape, murder, and blunt force trauma, I sought out my dog Snarles. He was initially hesitant as he had watched the past week's bender but after a long discussion and some pleading on my part he obliged. I sat him utop the jet ski and he drove it into my head.

Having read my last post, I am sure you as well as my other reader know that I have lost my job. I guess that Landmark College didn't want to know how easy it is to sneak weapons into the building. And I GUESS the "no guns" part of my contract is a blanket clause for "no hand grenades. Long story short: the fun police gave me the boot. Had I not pissed away the money from the carnival cruise (on jet skis and Evian spring water for the pool) I would have definitely pursue legal action. It sent me into a week long drinking spree. I was almost out of money, so in my down time I devised a plan to make more. The world Championship of Rock, Paper, Scissors. A tournament of three throw RPS games. But how does one win? Some would suggest "The Fist Full of Dollars" or in layman's terms: Rock, Paper, Paper. It always wins. Humans obsess over the best strategy. As it turns out though, there is a computer that defeats every human player. It exploits our one glaring weakness: predictability and adheres to random throws. Even at the subconscious level, humans adhere to patterns. They draw on past experience whether they want to or not. To be the best I would have to eliminate past experience. I would have to eliminate my memory.



Good evening listeners,