It’s 11:30 p.m. I’ve just gotten home from Denny’s; I spent some time there talking with friends after I got off work. Need to plug my phone in; gotta let it charge for a few minutes. It died while I was talking to my girlfriend; before it crapped out on me, she was settling into bed after a 12 hour workday. That’s why I left Denny’s so early; I have to tell her goodnight. I always tell her goodnight, tonight can’t be any different.
Author Archive: Osman B.
There’s something odd about receiving bad news.
It is one of very few things that aren’t spiders that make me stop what I’m doing and consider the cruel nature of the real world. Such was the case about a month ago when I made a startling discovery.
Alright, let’s get one thing straight. I’ve had about 4 hours of sleep these past three days, so I’m a lethargic mess of thoughts and…jumbleboof. Let’s get this show on the road.
…I enjoy watching television as much as the next scraggly teenager. It eats into my daily life, eats into my very soul. I have been known to get into arguments over television. My bookbag will look at me like, “Yo! When ya gonna open me up and get some homework done, man?” and I’m like, “Shaddap, bookbag! I need to watch everything on Tru TV’s Tuesday evening lineup before meddling in such silly affairs! Also, you’re apparently a sentient bookbag, and I no longer feel comfortable having you strapped to my back where I can’t see you.”
What? Come on, it’s not like that; not like that at all! I’m not…No really. Seriously. I swear to…Are you listening to me? Are you gonna listen to me? I have something to tell you. Ready for it? Here it comes, let me just get a little closer. Gonna whisper this in your ear…No, really. I’m not. For the love of all that’s precious, I’m not. For real. Really.
I’m not a writer. Everyone here seems to be very well-read and capable of weaving words together like a seamstress weaves cotton. Regrettably, I’m not so sophisticated. If I were a seamstress, I’d be the one who was so bad at her craft her ineptitude alone burned down the entire textile factory.
I’m really sorry. I wanted to make a joke about Shirtwaist, but in hindsight, that’s probably not the best way to introduce myself.