I'm fighting off severe caffeine-induced dehydration. I sip my Gatorade like a Madison Avenue highball. And then, bam. Down the hatch. "Fetch me a pack a Popeye cigarettes!" I bark into the street.
As I look around at the populace, I see that they're lining up for the latest video game console. Congratulations. I don't know much, but I know this is a crazy time. Even the moon, I've heard, is belching into space. And then there's the case of the corrupt children's aid agency spending its monies on SUV's for the needy executives. Somewhere in Florida, even as I type, there is an inflated snowman sweating like a bastard. Meanwhile, a new Internet company offers clients bogus cell phone calls to boost their popularity. What does it all add up to?
The Left Pencey Project has been called upon to respond.
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