IF YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES IT COULD JUST BE ME AND YOU.
HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, YOU RANDY WEIRDO? WE’RE IN PUBLIC. I’VE GOT A LITTLE THING CALLED SELF CONTROL. WHERE’S YOUR PROPRIETY?
I CAN TELL BY THE WAY YOU’RE LOOKIN’ AT ME, GIRL …
I WANT TO MAKE LOVE IN THIS CLUB.
IN THIS CLUB.
IN THIS CLUB.
IN THIS CLUB.
ABSOLUTELY NOT. AND WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING IT LIKE THAT? DO YOU THINK REPEATING IT WILL MAKE IT NORMAL?
I THINK THAT SHORTY I GOT A THING FOR YOU.
ATIAC will return on Friday, August 24th, when I return from picking up my sexy-ass wife in Vancouver, BC.
You may recall donating to our marriage fund sometime in the grey days where 2011 broke beneath the weight of 2012, and you may further remember this.
That is still a thing that happened, and remains unbelievable despite the ring that is just a hair too small slowly choking the life from my otherwise perennially unnoticed finger.
It’s been four months since I’ve seen her. Updates may be sporadic in the upcoming weeks as we will be doing sex things to each other in a sex-type way, and probably eating food and stuff (though not simultaneously because people who do that are horrible gross weirdos).
To everyone who has helped make the past year the most bizarre and exhilarating rollercoaster since my roaring, homeless 20s, I love you. I secretly creep onto your tumblrs in the wee hours of the night and laugh at your jokes, and I read every note and comment on every ATIAC post. If I haven’t answered your emails it is because I am buried in emails (metaphorically, of course; emails don’t weigh anything) and I have a job on top of putting this book together, but I have read them and smiled, and likely sorted them into folders because I enjoy organizing things almost as much as I enjoy captioning kangaroos for your amusement.
Let’s all go out to lunch or something.
Maybe catch a movie.
Magic Mike is still in the theatres here.
Let me know.
All my love,
THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS LISTENING TO ME COMPLAIN ABOUT MY JOB FOR HOURS ON END EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE NO CLUE WHO ANY OF THE PEOPLE I’M TALKING ABOUT ARE, OR HOW THE BASICS OF MY CHOSEN INDUSTRY FUNCTION.
IN MY HEAD I JUST PICTURE YOUR COWORKERS AS VARIOUS D-LIST TV ACTORS. IT MAKES YOUR COMPLAINING LIKE A LITTLE SHOW. OF COURSE, IT’S A TERRIBLE SHOW AND I HATE ALL THOSE ACTORS NOW, EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVEN’T ACTUALLY DONE ANY OF THE THINGS I HATE THEM FOR.
WHAT ABOUT WHEN I DESCRIBE THE JOB ITSELF IN EXCRUCIATINGLY BORING DETAIL?
QUITE HONESTLY, ONCE YOU GO OFF ON SPECIFICS I JUST TUNE YOU OUT AND TRY TO NOD EVERY 30 SECONDS OR SO. SOMETIMES I GO, “UGH” OR “OH, THAT’S TERRIBLE.” IT WORKS ALMOST EVERY TIME.
YOU ARE A HANDSOME GENIUS.
THANK YOU. YOU NEED A NEW JOB.
MMMPH. GGGHHHHHKKK! HNNNNNNNNMMMG.
… WHAT ARE ALL THOSE TERRIBLE NOISES?
THE ONES YOU’RE MAKING? I DON’T KNOW.
NO, THE STABBY BAD ONES.
THEY’RE BIRDS. CHIRPING.
I HATE THEM. WHAT IS THAT HORRIBLE GLOW?
THE SUN. IT’S NOON.
CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT IT OFF? IT’S ATROCIOUS AND INVASIVE.
IT’S BENEVOLENT AND NECESSARY FOR LIFE.
CAN YOU AT LEAST SHUT OFF THE DIRBS?
BIRDS, AND NO. I HOPE THIS TEACHES YOU A VALUABLE LESSON ABOUT BUYING WINE AT 7-11.
I AM SO FULL OF REGRETS. I AM SORRY FOR ALL THE THINGS.
I’M REALLY NERVOUS. WILL COLLEGE BE SCARY?
NO, HONEY. IT WILL BE WONDERFUL. WITH THE MONEY WE SAVE WE’RE GOING TO PAINT THE LIVING ROOM AND REFINISH THE DECK. DAD WANTS TO TURN YOUR ROOM INTO AN OFFICE SO HE’S GOT SOMEWHERE TO WORK. I’M GOING TO TAKE SOME ART CLASSES AT THE COMMUNITY CENTER. ONCE THAT’S DONE, THE JOHNSONS SAID WE CAN USE THEIR CABIN FOR A WEEK OR TWO, SO THAT SHOULD BE REALLY NICE. IT’S RIGHT BY THE OCEAN. THEN WE WERE THINKING ABOUT BUYING SOME NICER FURNITUR-
I MEANT FOR ME. WILL COLLEGE BE SCARY FOR ME?
OH. I DON’T KNOW. PROBABLY.
ALL I’M SAYING IS IT WOULD BE EASIER FOR WILL MCAVOY TO DELIVER BLISTERING NEWSCASTS FULL OF TRUTH BOMBS AND RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION IF ALL THESE CHICKS WEREN’T PERIODING ALL OVER THE OFFICE AND CRYING ABOUT NAIL POLISH! WHY CAN’T THEY BE STOIC AND DO EMAILS? WHY DOES MAGGIE HAVE A JOB? WHO LET WOMEN VOTE AND STUFF?
WHAT ARE YOU STUDYING IN SCHOOL THIS WEEK?
SOCIAL CONSTRUCTS AND INSTITUTIONS. I HAVE TO WRITE A PAPER ABOUT MARRIAGE.
I CAN HELP WITH THAT. MARRIAGE IS A NOOSE, MADE OUT OF DOCUMENTS AND IN-LAWS, THAT SLOWLY CHOKES THE LIFE FROM YOU, LITTLE BY LITTLE, DAY BY DAY, UNTIL YOU DIE.
THAT’S FUNNY, DAD SAID IT WAS “LEGALLY BINDING YOURSELF TO A FURNACE DESIGNED TO INCINERATE YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS.”
THAT SON OF A BITCH. I’LL KILL HIM.
YOU GUYS DO KNOW THAT DIVORCE IS A THING, RIGHT? YOU CAN GET DIVORCED?
HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT? YOUR FATHER AND I LOVE EACH OTHER VERY MUCH.
GUESS WHO GOT A PRO-MO-TION! THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE O-CEAN! IT’S MEEEEEEEEEE!
I’M THE HEAD OF ACCOUNTS RECEIVABLE!
IT’S PRACTICALLY UNBELIEVABLE!
FORTY THOUSAND A YEAR, WITH BENEFITS!
401K! STOCK OPTIONS! ALL THAT SHIT!
DEEDLE DEE DEEDLE DEE DEEEEEEEEE! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!