I have this disease where everyday at 3 am three dudes kick the shit out of me.
It started pretty slowly, with just one dude swinging by, staying for a beer, and sometimes giving me a friendly little shoulder jab. The vibes got a bit weird, however, when he began to savagely, and without warning, kick the shit out of me. But what was I going to do? Not invite him? There are now three dudes kicking the shit out of me.
If you need a clearer picture just imagine three men, fully male with noses and eyes, and me, nondescript, and they are kicking the shit out of me.
I have tried the so-called ‘medicines.’ For example, sleeping. But at 3 am what do I hear? A ring on the phone. It’s those three dudes! So I buzz them inside, provide the elevator access code, go downstairs to pay for their taxi, and bu-da-boom bu-da-bing next thing I know they are in my living room giving me the biggest shit-kicking I have received in my miserable fucking life.
I have also tried chemo, ‘the drug of kings,’ but, besides making me a little nauseous and miraculously curing my stage 4 pancreatic cancer, I have seen no benefits. Other ‘solutions,’ like voodoo mysticism and not letting them in, have been only somewhat or completely successful.
And, look, you’ve only got half the picture, you have to remember what I’m thinking as they’re kicking the shit out of me: “Wow. These guys aren’t playing around. They really kicked the shit out of me this time.” It takes dedication. I appreciate that. But at 3 am? A man has to sleep.
Bottom line: I need help. I feel like I’m going crazy. It seems that every time I whip open my door at exactly 3 am three dudes come and straight-up kick the shit out of me. And I know what you’re thinking: what about the children in Africa? Boo-fucking-hoo. At least they get to starve in peace. Meanwhile, my face gets utterly rocked just for the sin of opening my own front door.
