The Phases Of Quarantine

The Before Times We ventured, we sprang, we did not fear the air. Breakfast was fucking everywhere. Rockyroll presentations were regular and of the highest quality. A chicken in every garage, and a coke dealer in every bathroom.

The Burbling Wuhan. No, it doesn’t have broccoli. It’s a place. I don’t know where it is, Ma. I heard about it at the same time you did. Nah, don’t worry about it. Gonna blow through and disappear.

3/11/20 Shit got real on 3/11/20. Tom Hanks got the ronus, and the NBA canceled the season. It was like that scene in every horror movie where Tom Hanks gets the ronus and the NBA cancels the season. You know that scene.

Clap If You Believe In which, for a brief instance, we joined in spirit. We jammed out on our balconies to raise the neighborhood’s morale, cheered for the medical brigades, taught our parents how to work Zoom. And Tiger King. Remember Tiger King? All the meth and inbred leopards we needed, plus Joe Exotic eulogized his dead husband by talking about his testicles. We also cleaned our houses real good, and got $1200. We were rocket jockeys, man: Flying high.

Don’t Worry: Donald Trump Is In Charge Basketball Head saw Joe Exotic’s ratings and nothing could keep him from that briefing room. They tried that trick where you remove the door and wallpaper over the hole, but Donald gnawed through the drywall in seconds. The President has strong, healthy teeth; the Jewstream Media doesn’t give him enough credit for that. That’s bias in action. Then, he said we should bang bleach and boof lightbulbs and everyone made fun of him even worse than usual.

Summer, Maybe I don’t know if we had a summer this year. As well as I can recall, it was just suddenly October one morning. NO! WAIT! I remember summer. I got cancer, and black people were furious. (Those two clauses are not related.)

The Smushening II: Bowling For Bowels This was the phase of Quarantine when I was prescribed opiates and doobie, so I can’t be all that concrete in my recollect. Some famous people died, probably.

Gonk Gonk gonk.

Suicidesgiving True story: I killed myself 8 times in November. Gave myself to the gators, as is local custom. The beasts got my flesh, and I kept my soul. That’s a good deal, muchacho.

Aw, Current The freshly-passed stimulus bill contains $5 billion earmarked for gooping on grinches. WARNING: All grinch-gooping will be done at the DMV. If a stranger comes to your door and tells you “I’m from the government, and I’m here to goop on ya grinch,” then you should not trust that person, and you should certainly not allow him-or-her access to your grinch.

Ding ding ding! We’re done.

What, why?

You know why.

I do.