If someone were to ask me what my purpose for being here is , being alive is, I wouldn’t have a genuine answer. I don’t think most people would. I could think of 1,000 clever, smart-ass responses though. My safety blanket. Laughter. When shit isn’t funny though, I’m a wet paper towel. I’ve grown so tired of looking at people that I don’t even turn my television on anymore. This is going nowhere. I’m off to Mattresstown, population:1.