“This company has too much money,” says the bathroom custodian named Salvador, from El Salvador, who subsequently named his child Salvador, but they call him Kenneth. “I tell you.” He makes eye contact; the thought All companies have too much money streams across my mind, but there’s no way of conveying this to Salvador because he’s not-so bilingual. Just a real dude. And across the street, after the Manorhaven Town Hall meeting on the schedule road-paving work this summer — election year can be a bitch, y’all: FAIR WARNING — two men are walking to and from opposing street corners, dueling in an argument with flamboyant hand gestures, as the windows in front of Salvador and you block their audible speech/verbal/[what-have-you]. If a literal Declaration weren’t “signed” years ago *which my brother Todd thinks was the most recent evolution of man [a.k.a. signing away freedom, like <_<]), would PayPal exist? Would our shitters overflow with something we considered societal relevance? Is Salvador the key to happiness, or is he stifling counterculture on the blue-collar-low because Kenneth, boy, that baby gotta eat; my/your MAN. Hemingway and the resale of baby shoes.
Ronnie is exiting the bathroom as you finish typing in the 2-1-4 door code for entry. He emailed me earlier about tracking packages, but you called him “mang” in the corporate CC’d reply, so fuck-shit. “Thanks.” Ronnie is wearing a Captain America t-shirt bought at the Roosevelt Field mall, probably in a store that doesn’t exist anymore or is just in a different location. Noticing a coworker’s shoes in the shitter-stall next to mine, you discuss with him in echos about vaping after work in the parking lot. He tells me about how his interns are staring at keyboards, productively, using the catch-all phrase “Just doing my job.” As a heathen, this co-worker has started a micro-conglomerate corporation, merging some lawyer and accountant with his printing, branding, and events company. So I play him Eyeliner’s latest Buy Now at 15+ volume using a phone speaker, vibrating off the sterile tile. He mentions it sounds like his childhood vacation home in Mertle Beach, NC when his Jewish-Italian parents listened to George Benson while talking about how they couldn’t afford the Hampton beach house, but also how, with travel cost, “Mertle Beach was much cheaper, even when buying the shittiest goodies: Aladdin boogie-boards, air-brushed Summer ‘01 visors, shell identification software sold on a floppy disc, and forever, etc.”
Getting practice in being soulless sometimes means the opposite of being moral, and it involves divulging in gastrating a leak. Let’s say your body is sinking into the ground of hyper-euphoria — let’s just SAY. Or as if the only way to get the PG-avant wall-art back that was recently painted over in the Italian restaurant down the street is complaining. Actually, let me say none of that. Wait. Remember when you woke up today and proceeded to defecate all of yesterday into a system of tubes and waterways [a toilet], a logging that would never have become apparent if someone else weren’t there to help it run? There’s a system to human life that’s beyond money, but tangibly, it’s non-existent. What makes more money: my hands or your mouth? Virtualization is baroque to modern survival. Awareness pretenses the satisfaction of existence. It’s all fucking cyclical. Even MS Word thinks “Awareness pretenses the satisfaction of existence” is fragmented. Maybe they’re right. But smelling popcorn before being struck by lightning is a dangerous fabrication of marketable thought. People think like movies.
When my phone rings me an unfamiliar number and all I see is an area code, this translates to me as an opportunity. What does this vibe do to you? My website is located at 625 RXR Plaza Uniondale in the office that looks like a 道場. We can satiate all your consulting needs and wants. Business development advisory? Hot words on a resume? Oh, we got computers and white walls with markets. Let’s start brainstorming. If you email Pitbull, he’ll Plex points to some K-Mart card I don’t own yet while earning cents on Google by searching people for optimizing results. Strategic fluidity courses throughout a body of lies that all smile in a vast ocean of hair and skin just typing into a generation of self. All we do as humans now is build NOTHING/INTERNET. Aren’t we all How-To guides and shit? And then Ellen sends you an email from a member (authorized by [Branding Representative #420]), only Ellen is the member, and it’s Jennifer J who wants the .PDF sent back out so we can collect digital stacks of vitality as an afterthought of human production. I heard a name being shouted at me the last three times you walked by, and none of these vocalizations were directed from any particular speaker.
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