So, it's all like,
I was at the park, right.
Standing within nature.
Smoking Camel Hards.
Really getting back in touch with nature, you know.
Getting ready to write a new poem because, uh, I am a poet.
I am published.
My book of poetry has an ISBN.
I do my best work while standing in the park.
Looking cool.
Like Clint Eastwood cool.
Except no one is as cool as Clint Eastwood.
Not even Vladamir Lenin.
I bet you do not even know who Lenin is.
Typical.
So, it's all like,
I was at the park first, right.
And these fucking stupid people come by and throw loose change into the nearby fountain.
With each coin there is a "PLOP!" sound.
ARGH!
I am trying to work here.
God, people are so fucking stupid.
I mean, those people probably voted for Warren G. Harding.
People are so fucking stupid.
Look, you say you have a democracy and you vote in Warren G. Harding?
What the fuck?
You people are morons.
FUCK YOU, AMERICA.
And fuck your fucking smoking bans, too.
I mean, what the fuck?
I need to fucking smoke my fucking Camel Hards.
Why do you fucking people persecute us smokers by making us go outside?
Did you ever fucking think that it might be raining outside?
Newsflash: in the winter the temperature is fucking cold, you stupid fuck.
This is why the fuck we need a Communist revolution in America.
Guevara would fucking let his soldiers smoke inside.
Why the fuck can you not do that in fucking America?
Fucking idiots, your fucking American dream is fucked.
You made it this way, you stupid fuck.
So, it's all like,
I was at the park first, right.
And I think to myself so long as America is capitalism.
I have every right to take change from that fountain.
Those fucking Warren G. Harding supporters think a fountain is a wishing well.
I will show them.
If they say anything, I'll tell them them to read Das Kapital or watch Dirty Harry.
Now, I collect broken dreams.
I make good loot off of it.
My parents are happy that I am making money.
They told me that people my own age are supposed make their own money.
I told them to shut up and get me a carton of Camel Hards.
But like, uh, I have been saving up.
I might get my own carton soon.
All because these fucking stupid people think their wishes will come true.
Except now only my wishes come true.
Except for getting wet.
I hate getting wet.
Clint Eastwood never got wet.
Maybe I should hire someone to get the change for me.
You do know that if we were in Europe you would all be my slaves, right?
It's true.
The Sleauxdethes are a powerful dynasty in Europe.
I should take a flight back there and get me a slave.
A slave to get my change and do my chores.
I would have to hide my slave from my parents.
So it's all like,
I go back to the fountain everyday now.
The park is my special place.
Where I write.
The fountain is my sweet spot.
Where I will have my slave liberate spare change.
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