So I got caught up in life like so many other stiffs.
So I work two jobs. So I'm
twenty-three. Halfway dead, quarter-way dead -
Percentages and figures surmised by a
fictional statistician in some far off laboratory
wearing a handsome tweed sweater
despite the heat, helping to contain his
paunch.

So doctors have told me beer will **** me.
So they advise that I not indulge in any illegal
substances. We do not debate the validity of law. The
role of fear in today's culture. Hysteria. So I'm on antidepressants.
So I'm a candidate for pharmaceuticals. So I drink when
I can, which is just about every day. So I had a problem in
the past, so I spent a month locked away. So I'm not taking
a class. So I'm just about white. So I share a room with Phil
and a house with five other young men. So I had *** with
a girl I pretty much just met. So my drugs are right next to my bed.
So my *****'s *****. So I'm a brother and a son.

So I'm my own man.