Good evening, Gentle Reader. Without getting too touchie feelie, I thought that I would make a post as a sort of introduction of myself to the three people who actually read this blog. The best way that I could do so, I figured, was to show you a typical day in my life.
Then you could get a proper sense of me as a human being--just like you, a human being . . . if indeed you are a human being.
I awaken at 4:15 every morning and feed my demonspawn.
After my demonspawn have received their individual instructions as to whom to torment for the coming day, I retire to my dojo and do a thousand one-armed pushups.
Then of course comes prayer time, which is always a bit difficult for an atheist like myself. In an effort to be as fair as possible, I put the names of all of the gods and deities known to man into a hat. Then I select three gods from the hat and attempt to tailor an individual prayer to each god.
For example, today I selected the Chthonic god Mother Earth, the Siberian Raven God, and Satan.
A sample prayer might go as follows:
I really enjoyed your acting in Paradise Lost, although it has been a long time since undergrad days. You really stole the show. I wish you the best of luck in your attempts to overthrow the Lord of Light. I hope hell is nice. Amen.
|Me Praying to Satan|
Then I like to head off to the board room in order to convince people of innovative ideas. I do not have a board room of my own, and so what I like to do is circulate myself between the various board rooms in my town, until my entrance is barred by security. Today you might have been lucky enough to find me in the board room of Union National Bank in Dubai, UAE, convincing the bank tellers about a self-explanatory new invention that I came up with called vitamin beer.
|Before the Arrival of Security|
The afternoons and evenings are generally reserved for contemplation, a fifteen-minute period called Plans for Tomorrow, gymnastics, and beer. The gymnastics, which typically involves me falling down a flight of stairs, tends to follow four hours of beer.
If beer is not available--as it wasn't today--I engage in performance art of one variety or another. Usually, my performances involve some degree of nudity.
|I Am the Pale Wizard of 47th Street|
My day ends on a park bench. I am a talented sleepwalker and can always find my way back to my bed.
Also, I write. That is something that happens when I am conscious. Here is my update so far for the month using my beer-hour restriction:
Writing completed: 11 hours
Writing to go: 39 hours
10/1: 2 hours of writing (2 beers consumed)
10/2: 1 hour (0 beers)
10/3: 2 hours (0 beers)
10/4: 3 hours (3 beers consumed)
10/5: 3 hours (
0 4 beers consumed)
Beers in the bank:
Today I finished chapter one. Now it is time for beer.
Thank you for your time.