I have no idea what's happening to my life. One minute I'm all repeling off cliffs and breaking up international underage sex slave rings and I'm all cool and wicked and awesome. And probably the most respected in the western hemisphere if not the world, and the next I'm standing in the shower and yelling "Ow! Ow! Ow! Fuck you!" and I'm giving the scalding water the finger and that seems totally rational because this goddamn shower has been pushing it's luck for a few weeks now and it turns out if you take a shower for longer than 7 minutes the shower gets all psychotic like Glenn Close when she boiled the bunny, and is that reference even any good anymore? Like... it seems like a cliche. Forget I said that. It's psychotic like your mom is when she's been quaffing qualude and Jim Beam cocktails behind a dumpster for like an hour while waiting to go on stage in the "Saggy Baggy Elephant Book Reading and Striptease review".
I had no idea that was going to happen. Please accept my apologies.
Your Mom did.
The other part of my life that is spiralling out of control is all this stupid mail I keep getting from the Unemployment Office. Jesus. Are we BFFs all the sudden or what? Because I've always wanted a bff I could talk to for long hours on the phone and laugh at people with and tell dirty jokes to. You think you got what it takes, Unemployment Office? Because I don't.
Look, Unemployment Office, I like you... you've got a good heart and you give me free money, but if you haven't figured out that I'm just using you, than you need to take a step back and examine your own issues. I'm not your goddamn analyst, Unemployment Office. You need to stop sending me letters every other day on your urgently colored papers. Fucking Purple doesn't convey your messages with any more Oomph than white does. I can read, is my point, Unemployment Office. Stop treating me like a goddamn child.
And then I do a little Ricky Roma impression from GlenGarry Glen Ross and I say "You'd know if you ever spent a day in your life.You fucking child. "and I call the Unemployment Office a "cunt" and then I laugh because that's a funny thing to say to the Unemployment Office because I'M the one never spending a day in his life, unless you count writing hate mail to the shower, which occupies at least four hours of my day now and I could probably list as a part-time job if I had a resume that wasn't written on Crayola Magic Paper© with "3D Explosion!©" markers and features an alien hijacking a racecar so it's pretty much raping your eyes with how cool it is.