Sam Paul - Why I Committed Suicide

Oh sweet Jenifer, how could I ever be angry with you?

We finally went over to her parent’s house and her mom did the best she could with what was left. Her parents thought it was funny and I thought it was funny, but Jenifer didn’t like us joking around about it that much. Obviously girls won’t dig me as much anymore, but I really don’t care if anyone else in the entire world thinks I’m attractive as long as SHE still does. In fact most of the time I wish everyone would leave me alone except her. Having short hair is like a new lease on life, easy-maintenance experience. I hardly have to use any shampoo anymore and that’s got to save some money. Money that can be spent on more Ramen noodles. HA!

Jim had his crazy childhood friend, Timothy, a guy I’ve heard a million stories about, over to the house the other night. Timothy is on of those people that are so full of energy and go-go-go, that he doesn’t always know what to do with himself. He is one of those people always looking ahead to the next thing or the next party or the next drink and if there is trouble of any sort, I wouldn’t ever be surprised to see Timothy in the middle of it. Timothy is amiable and friendly but I learned that it isn’t always smart to give acid to people with too much energy to begin with, especially if it isn’t something they are used to doing. While Jim, Jen and I were sitting down and trying to chill out, Timothy was buzzing around the house doing amped up crazy weird shit. He kept trying to show us this trick he learned about eggs.

The structure of an egg is very strong if the force attempting to break it open is applied evenly over the whole surface area. This means that you can try and crush an egg in your hand and it can withstand the pressure if you don’t get too crazy and apply the force to it evenly. I learned that in one of my old physics classes or while doing bong hits watching the Discovery channel.

Next thing I know, Timothy is in the fridge walking around crushing eggs in his hand trying to show us this “new trick”, but he was way too fucked up to do it right and he kept breaking eggs all over our house. He even broke an egg on top of Jim’s bed, which I’m sure will get pretty gross since Jim only does his laundry about once every six weeks. Yuck.

Timothy was pretty amusing at first but his shenanigans got to be very annoying, something I try to avoid while tripping my balls off, so Jenifer and I cut out of there. Poor Jim had to stay and almost baby sit the guy since it was his friend, but I think they still had fun on their own. I mean, I guess its okay for people to talk to themselves as long as they don’t interrupt themselves at the same time.

I’m going to be starting a new job at the Swensen’s up the street where my roommate Jerry is the manager. Basically I’ll be a short order cook for them, which means my fast-paced, enticing, high-paying career in the food service industry is officially in full bloom. Now if I can only get to the enticing and high-paying part of that description I’ll be on easy street. At least no one in my house will starve. I should be re-named the “Purloined Food Avenger” or some-such nonsense since I practically feed the whole house. I’m apparently the only one with enough sense to grab lots of foodstuffs everyone is sick of looking at by the time our shifts end and bring it home. After slinging pizza for so long, nobody who works with pizza wants to even touch it, much less eat it. I’ve been working at the damn Tomato longer than anyone so I just wanted some sort of new job for fucking variety.

I’m thinking I will still continue working at the Tomato to supplement my income a little, but with both Dan and Jenifer working there now it’s time to attempt at least some sort of minor effort to change. Too many hands dipping in the same till will get me busted, so I think maybe subconsciously I am trying to make a change towards recapturing my honest business practices. My sense of Bushi. I make less than 4 dollars an hour STILL and you just can’t make a dollar out of fifteen cents sometimes. Sooo, even though I won’t be changing industries (oooh check out my ‘high-tech’ lingo usage), I’ll be changing jobs. Maybe I can do a little table waiting and pick up some tips at the new place, and then I’ll at least have waiter training and be able to move on again someday. I can always fall back on the welding I learned in high school if the cooking industry bottoms out. At least welders get to wear the cool looking Imperial-Guard-Star Wars-helmets and that’s not too bad.

For the most part it’s pretty nice to work in a place where you can eat. That way if all the other money has to go to the bills there is always some food around to eat in really desperate times. It’s also cool to be in a place where I can work, eat and smoke pot in the freezer all at the same time. The ice cream parlor aspect of this new job is a slight bonus, but my first damn job was at a Baskin Robbins and it took me years to be able to stand ice cream again after creating so many vile concoctions with customized flavors and combinations. A word to the Baskin Robbins Company: never leave anyone under 21 in charge of an ice cream store!

I figure since Jenifer and I eat at Swensen’s anyway, she can come up there to eat club sandwiches while it’s slow. She can be finicky when it comes to eating the only crap we can afford to eat sometimes.

School is going okay. It’s difficult to get up at 10 am (early is a time relative to when I actually go to bed). It’s hard enough to leave bed, but I also must leave the entanglements of such a beautiful woman behind me. Still I go. Plodding to class in the heat with more heat added on top of that, while hormonally IN heat is not an easy task, especially when there are cool forbidden sexual delights at home. Ahhh well. big sigh. Sometimes both of us sleeping in my regular twin bed can get a little crowded but I really do love it. Have I mentioned I love Jenifer thirty times today yet?

We finally got cable TV in the house and Jenifer will sit with me in my lap on the big easy chair in the living room and watch the Discovery Channel and old Star Trek reruns while I bong out with Skeletor. I feel very content when I spend days and days doing this. It really makes me so grateful for everything. Must be all those juicy love vibes I’m getting, plus I’m learning a lot about World War II and animals so it counts as productive educational time.

Occasionally we all pitch in some of our money to get some cocaine and then stay up all night playing cards and Super Nintendo. Personally I’m not much of a speed person. I don’t like feeling nervous and jittery, but Jen and I fuck like rabbits when we’re on coke. It’s very nice. I can see why people become addicts I suppose, but sex and awareness of the world around me doesn’t really rule my life. I guess I’m just more of a turn on, tune in, drop out kind of goodfellow. Jerry and Jenifer like doing coke a lot though. Every girl I’ve ever seen doing coke loves it way more than anything else she’s ever tried. When you score it from the dealer they actually call it “girl” since so many broads go fucking nuts over the shit. I thought it was kind of funny when I found out a drug was nicknamed after the gender that prefers it. I think it must affect women differently on a more personal level. Maybe confidence is something all girls lack in their lives and cocaine can fill that gap chemically. Temporarily. I don’t really get it…I wonder what “boy” is?

I really was so disappointed with cocaine because it was supposed to be the greatest drug of all time and it was a really big deal for me to do it the first time. Then it turned out to be (relatively) tame and not very much fun, which meant all the lies I ever heard about cocaine were more paranoid drug war bullshit.