gather 'round kids, it's story time

So, as I have some time to kill (read: I'm a little too lazy right now to get myself to the store across the road and buy something for dinner... plus, The Man is keeping me down and won't let me carry my beer in tow as I go shopping), I thought I'd let you know what's been poppin' on the streets down here in NYC, mostly because I know you are dying to find out how I'm doing. I'm just that damn important.

So I started work this week. And I'll let you in on a little secret: the spine-shattering pace of the life of an unpaid intern never ceases to thrill. But rather than tell you, let me show you. I've been in command of the most highly classified, ultra-sensitive tasks that will surely have the NSA kicking in my door before the week's through and telling me to grab a mouthful of floor or risk getting three in the chest.So far, I've filed the business cards recently collected by the Vice President into what could possibly be called the least understood, least efficient way of organizing anything in the history of things that needed to be put in a semblance of order. This thing is less organized that an African democracy. I've made copies, sent faxes, and researching bios for speakers at an event coming up in July. Oh and I've also been put in charge of emailing news articles about China around to the rest of the office every morning. Which is pretty fun actually, because China is guaranteed to provide at least one hysterical "Oh, China... what are you thinking..." article every day. So far it's been the proposed introduction of compulsory waltzing in schools to combat obesity and 5 stolen babies (alive, don't worry) found in the back of a stolen car when it was stopped at a tollbooth. You really couldn't make this kind of stuff up.

Basically, I'm now a practitioner of skills that a trained monkey could probably master... or not even trained. I mean, if he wasn't trained he'd probably throw poo at people in the office between tasks. But, seriously, who says that the office wouldn't benefit from a little fecal matter strewn about here and there. I think it would take, bringing a little whimsy to the place. In all fairness though it's only day three, and it's at least a mildly interesting way to pass the daylight hours. Although if hard pressed, I probably could come up with a few more things that I'd rather be doing... watching the Deadliest Catch on the Discovery Channel comes to mind immediately. Better yet, staring in the Deadliest Catch on the Discovery Channel. Me battling the Bering Sea on the hunt for Alaskan King Crab... I'd fish that bitch like there was gold doubloon on that ocean floor and I got to keep it all.

Living in Brooklyn is shaping up pretty nicely so far. Don't have a roommate yet in my double and I don't expect that I ever will, which works out great for me because it means I can walk around naked and do all the things that I secretly want to do but can't when people are around (taking a dump with the door open tops that list). For a little explanation, I'm basically living in what is like a cross between a dorm and a hotel. I can't really explain it. If it helps your mental image, it used to be an old folks home, which explains why there's a fold out seat in my shower and safety rails all over the place. I just thought I had hit the jackpot, because let me tell you, there is no greater satisfaction in life than sitting down when in the shower, or grabbing a hold of something for a little support, moral and physical, while you squeeze out that taco dinner you ate last night. Been cooking for myself, which actually makes me really happy for many reasons. For starters, I love cooking. Secondly, it sort of fully hit me yesterday when I was shopping that I can officially eat whatever I want. If I want cherry pie for dinner, I can go and make myself cherry pie. If I want to substitute dinner for beer, "Go right ahead, boy" cheer the masses in my head. In the short, life is good and I haven't run into any problems yet. I haven't really met anyone else in the building so far, but that doesn't seem like a problem yet. Like the Atlantic "Chain-Link" Moray eel, I will wait in the shadows for my prey to come to me. (Note: I spent way to long researching that joke and anyone who actually follows up on that will realize that it's inaccurate. The Atlantic "Chain-Link" Moray eel doesn't stalk its prey like that. Only the Saw-tooth Moray does.)

So there you have it. My story so far. I also want to let you all know (well, most of you that is... the rest of you know who you are) that I have an empty bed in my room and if anyone ever finds themselves in the BK area, or The City for that matter, let me know, and I can show you the true meaning of the words "Domino's Brooklyn Style Pizza". Anyway, my drink is dry and my stomach is empty, which means that I either have to go grab myself another Warsteiner imported German pilsner, or I have to rustle up some grub for dinner. I'm thinking the former. Take care, kiddies.

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