The Birth of Myself: An Unabridged Biography

I crouched in the corner an' sucked on a dry-erase marker.   I had heard on the TV that drinkin' a quart of pool water twice a day every day for a fortnight cures depression – so, it bein' my third day on that regimen, I reckoned I was really startin' t'feel it...
fact, I'z about ready to roll right on over on top'a the nearest hog I could lay hands on...

now Rusty'll tell yuh that there ain't a whole lot that a fat hooker won't do.  Honest to God.   An' I reckon he'd know.  Cuz, y'know, of course, his sister's one.  Sure as shit.

Anyways, I'z startin' to feel a little – funny, I guess you could say.  Damn cornstalks spinnin' around like fuckin' TOPS – whirlin' around like them dervish fellas in India who cain't seem to even help themselves from doin' it.   Everything was full of electricity – I could goddamn well see it with my own flippin' eyes.   They was shootin' out of everywhere, out the ends of pine cones and the Chevy's radio antenna and the fucking dry-erase marker – I needed to go for a skinny dip right then.   I just wanted to feel the water curling gently around me, cradling me like a woman's arms, like a big ol' hooker's hamhock arms...just a real quick swim and then I'd go straight home and forget all about them markers tastin' so goddamn good –

copyright 2011 EW Borg