yes, we’ve met, but I bear in mind that, in my line of work, someone taps me on the shoulder every five minutes - I am like a sieve for names, dates and faces, but, damn it, I never forget a haircut and I’ve never paid good money to make myself smell a certain way - the barber said I’d smell better after a good bleeding; I told him I was bleeding already [please return the preceding idea to its original owner at the above address] - so, for services rendered, I paid him one international unit of weeping, bloated slop -

something else cropped up, here, a fungus of sorts, but I bolldozed it down to make way for the Wal-Mart - if I get stuck in caps lock.... well, I’ll just have to bulldoze that mushroom patch after they peel my drunk membranes off the interstate - so I switched to longhand - yeah, just now - so, as you can imagine, this is being transposed diligently, calculatedly with one hand while the other jolts a stale paper-mate across the back of my wife’s business stationery, and the other hand washes the one that rocks the baby to sleep in my arms which gives me fair reason to suspect that despite having four arms, I’ll have to hold my breath until sunset -

now this I am typing with two hands, long after the fact of my composing it in longhand - I am under great strain to stay faithful the manuscript, warts and all - and of course, I am lying to all of you - after all those hours we tallied up, sucking life-savers in the checkout line while testing our latest hypothesis on why when people like us enter the room, everyone else leaves [the blue girl says it is because they can smell the doom - and after hosing down the machines on a foggy Thursday night, who else can say that she’s not wrong?], wouldn’t we get caught sliding kernels of truth into our chatroom neologisms like the cheap flexible upholstery tacks that they are, simply because even if we learn to type with our asses, we still can’t hear the sarcasm?

we’ll form a committee - take a vote -

well, one thing is certain, here - we can’t spell hypercivilized without a sieve - I have a crack team of reading and writing machines in my basement, and they keep me marinating in fresh brine - I fear that this is where the free write, as such, is, without remedy, unfreely written - try catching a cab after last call with that staggering clause propped up against your shoulder!

resolved: the internationally recognized typographical symbol for sarcasm will be [insert content here] - all civil and literate arguments for and against this resolution should be freely written in longhand on the provided stationery, laundered, pressed, folded neatly, and hermetically sealed in the provided sarcophagi - safe journeys into the afterlife should be entrusted to the parcel service of the deceased’s choosing - if no such legal provisions existed at the time of death, please return the preceding idea to its original owner at the above address - thank you for choosing Arco AM-PM mini-markets and have a pleasant day -