And Then I Thought I was a Fish

IDENTIFYING INFORMATION: Peter Hunt Welch is a 20-year-old single Caucasian male who was residing in Bar Harbor, Maine this summer. He is a University of Maine at Orono student with no prior psychiatric history, who was admitted to the Acadia Hospital on an involuntary basis due to an acute level of confusion and disorganization, both behaviorally and cognitively. He was evaluated at MDI and was transferred from that facility due to psychosis, impulse thoughts, delusions, and disorientation.

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Observations of a Straight White Male with No Interesting Fetishes

Ever wondered how to justify your own righteousness even while you're constantly embarrassed by it? Or how to make a case for your own existence when you contribute nothing besides nominal labor to a faceless corporation that's probably exploiting children? Are you clinging desperately to an arbitrary social model imposed by your parents and childhood friends? Or screaming in terror, your mind unhinged at the prospect of an uncaring void racing to consume the very possibility of your life having meaning?

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This is the story of a boy, a girl, a phone, a cat, the end of the universe, and the terrible power of ennui.

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Protect Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen from 2016

Composed on the 11th of December in the year 2016, at 11:41 AM. It was Sunday.

Okay people. It’s been a long goddamn year. Almost 365 days of goddamn longness. Our heroes are dead or disgraced. Our villains are stumbling into power. Our sex alien rockstars have returned to their home planets to tell Elvis he was right to get out early.

As far as I’m concerned, civilization has two remaining hopes: Sir Pat Stew and Ian McKellen. Benedict Cumberbatch and Tilda Swinton would help, but you know they’re going back to their home planets soon. No, Stewart and McKellen are the last good things in our crumbling human experiment. Besides The Rock. I assume The Rock will be fine.

It is humanity’s duty to come together and protect Patrick and Ian. Do you really think you could face another day if you heard that Jean-Luc Picard tripped in front of a bus? That Gandalf was mugged and left for dead? I couldn’t. Just the thought that Magneto and Professor X would never work their problems out on screen would put me on Xanax for a month.

We need round-the-clock protection led by Idris Elba and an on-call medical team reporting to Hugh Laurie. I’m talking everything from the neighborhood watch to NATO. This is where we draw the line. This is where we do not go gentle into that good night. This is where we stand together and raise our middle fingers to the cold blades of time and fate.

So I’m opening the non-profit organization Protect Stewart and McKellen from 2016. Give what you can, and let’s celebrate 2017 with one solid win.

I think it's a wasp. Maybe locust?

Hi there! You should totally go buy my book for the low low price of 6.73! It's like buying me a beer at an out-of-the-way dive bar in Brooklyn! Not in Manhattan. Manhattan prices are ridiculous, though there are a couple of decent Irish dives where you can snag a drink for five bucks. Otherwise, you're looking at a two or three book beer.