Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Stupid cerebrum

So... I forgot the awesome story I was going to tell you...

I told you I had a horrible memory. Ah well, lesson learned. Next time I will tell the story while it is fresh in my mind. Let's move forward, shall we?

I was looking over some old letters which have been collecting dust when I discovered that they weren't letters in the traditional sense. In the traditional sense, they were actually bills. Since most companies prefer the traditional sense to the more exciting fictional sense, I find I now have to move and I have no working credit cards. Oh, and the IRS is very interested in meeting me, which is not as awesome as it sounds. If I wasn't stealing my internet from an unprotected wifi somewhere out there, and my neighbors didn't have outside wall outlets, I wouldn't even be able to post today.

So, where does a guy with a negative credit score find an apartment, eletricity, internet service, food, and other things the same guy considers necessities? Keep in mind that this same guy is banned from his parents' basement due to an over reaction on the parents part over a small issue with self discovery and unusually flamable lubricants. *shiver* That is a story for another time... Where does he go, one would ask one's self if the one was the afformentioned guy?

Well, it's either the French Foreign Legion, or I am going to have to start begging my friends. Now, since I have no friends to speak of (Charlie was a good friend, but he is in witness protection now so I am not supposed to speak of him), I guess the next question becomes: How does a guy with no money and no credit cards, get to the nearest French Foreign Legion recruiting station?

I thought about learning french, speaking it in public until they checked me for papers and when I didn't produce any, getting deported to France, but that would take too long and I would probably just wind up in Canada anyway. Not to mention I can't afford French lessons. It is a vicious circle, really.

So here I am, me, myself and my dilemma. Wait a second, I'll be right back, there is a knock on the door...
...
...
...
...
...
Dilemma solved. Apparently, when some bills aren't paid, they give you a free room at the local jail. I am supposed to be getting my jacket and then going with them. See, sometimes, things just work out.

No comments:

Post a Comment