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Living a bit west of washington d.c.
has nothing to do with my finally
having gotten a real job though i
guess it must have helped but it
probably has more to do with shear
luck, my dog, and just the right
combination of prescription drugs
but whatever the reasons here i am
getting up every morning, grooming
myself, dressing appropriately,
and heading to a safe little cubical
where the poor people around me
have to listen to conversations
with my computer, my file cabinet,
and the angry blue wastebasket which
really isn't mine (well, none of it is
mine but the others weren't stolen
late at night from another floor
of the building except for a few
small parts inside my computer which
i'll never admit to so it's no use
telling anybody) so now i have a
real job and earn money and am a
proper member of society doing my part
to help somebody who's already rich
get richer which is about as moral as
you can get in america these days and
i don't seem to have much time to do
anything else anymore but i'm told this
feeling will pass and that i'm a real
wimp cause most people could do this
and have kids and even find time to
get abducted by starships while still
raising their kids and holding down
three jobs and since i'm not doing
anywhere near this i'm a real wimp and
the neighbor who's telling me this has
two cars in his yard he's been working
on for years while i only have one.