End of the World Foolery

Let’s party like it’s 1999. Let’s create a stockpile of canned goods and water and then hide in the basement like we’ve got Y2K to endure.

We can bolt lock the door and arm ourselves.

We can eat canned olives and rehydrate some dehydrated milk.

We can pray to the muffled sounds of fireworks and mislead ourselves into believing it’s the sounds of war and absolute, apocalyptic destruction.

We can resurface 12 weeks later and tell the neighbors that we were “on vacation” for the past few months.

We can keep it a secret to ourselves and never tell the embarrassing truth of what we really did.

Wanna party?

Party Room

Phantom Rider

It’s never safe to make assumptions — unless you’re driving around in the dark without headlights on. I tell myself that what I hit was either a coyote or a giant raccoon. I find these assumptions to be comforting.

Or maybe that 5’5″ tall figure was actually a mannequin that someone haphazardly left in the middle of the road? I’ll probably never know for sure.

I know when I’ve hit a guardrail because I can see the sparks, but other than that, I almost never see anything at all.

But it’s OK.

I don’t get the paper or ever watch the news.

And I really don’t care about the damage that I’m doing to my car either.

The only thing I care about is…

The thrill I get from driving around without headlights on.

I am the Phantom Rider.

First Thing

For years I have been writing in notebooks, and now I will be sharing the ideas with the world. This is WordPress, a blogging website, but hopefully this site will not resemble any blogs you have ever encountered.

Not a big blog reader?

Me neither.

Most blogs are, according to the idea I have of them in my head, trash not unlike the plastic that is found in the stomach of a beached whale. When I think of blogs, I think of human thought at its lowest. I think of content poisoning the mind, and corrupting the soul. I think despicable humans sharing despicable thoughts. I think of the smuggest smug, know-it-all dipshits. And worst of all — trust fund travel kids who share photos and videos of themselves climbing over, and jackassing around important cultural monuments, insulting local traditions, and giving wrongly inspired speeches about chasing your dreams and making them come true or some bullshit…

I hope to defy all of that.

Will I?

Probably. I have set a pretty low bar.

The objective of this site is to offer up a distraction and shake the readers’ brains like an etch a sketch.

Welcome to Amnesia
A place to forget.