Thursday, February 4, 2010
It begins...or ends. The cards aren't really clear on this one.
I’ve decided to kwit wasting my life, at least for forty hours a week. “Public” is never seen next to my name unless it has the addendum “drunkenness”. My only connection with the word servant is between me, Madam Cassandra, and her cat-o-nine tails I affectionately call “Thankyoumadammayihaveanother” or “Ouchie” for short. These two words can be combined to describe a person much like “he” and “man” or even “kweer” and “bait”. One Halloween in fifth grade I was described as both of these much like on Ground Hogs Day in 28th grade I earned the description “public servant”. Public service is fertile soil for drama and if you don’t believe me rent Police Academy: Citizens on Patrol, watch it, then call me to tell me how right I am as you are washing your soiled trousers. I being a man of letters I thought I would document this journey with varied ham handed use of twenty-five of them. It will be a cold day in hell before I recognize the letter “q” in a word. Names will be changed to protect the innocent, guilty, and me, Jasper Cornwallis a trained stone mason down on his luck. Other things besides names have been altered as well. I never could afford Madam Cassandra.