October 3, 2009

A few months ago, I started using a wallet. Also few months ago, but not as many as I was just talking about, I lost my wallet.

For those of you not in the nose, a wallet is a tiny little pouch that you put all your money and important articles into. It has to be very small and easy to not realize you don’t have. If you lose track of it, you might as well go to jail because you can’t do a flipping thing without it.
Tralala, lala, you can’t go anywhere or do anything because you dropped the brown square!

Why can’t I just go to any place and have people believe that I am who I say I am? Because people, in general, are moralless scumbuses who resent the species they were born into and will hesitate, because hesitation is only temporary, to dispatch ruin upon the existence of any other person. And that’s why I have cards that prove that only I’m me, unless somebody else gets the cards. So what happens if I drop them? Why would somebody who is essentially my neighbor, my co-resident of this town, possibly this block of houses, not return to me a thing which has my own address that is obviously close by? Near enough to walk to? For I walked to wherever I was when I lost the thing? Because people are unscrupulous fiends who wish death or worse on everyone who is not them. They surround themselves with fences and noisy machinery and awful lights all night to do everything possible to disrupt any serenity in their own in their section of the universe.

It made me mad, when I first reported the loss, and I would be asked “did you check your back pockets?” No, because I wouldn’t have to, because I couldn’t not feel anything I put into one at all times. In fact, I never use my back pockets. If I did, that would be a great place to have something nabbed from without me seeing, wouldn’t it! The sudden rush of relative comfort from no longer having a thing crammed back there might also temporarily disorient me to the extent that I failed to realize an important had just been nabbed from me for however long is necessary to allow the thief to get away and so justify my never using such uncomfortable-yet alert pockets.
There are plenty of alternative pocket security measures I have yet to investigate.

But all this assumes another person took my wallet. More likely it simply fell out of wherever it was and landed in a dark, forgotten trench or crevice of the earth, where no mortal humanoid would be likely to venture into, much less search through in search of something. This possibly occurred in my own house. Really, there is no end of places it could have gone.

This is the wallet I have now. I purchased it because I like the design and it is hard to drop something that has a chain without noticing. However, feel free to think this just means I’m in some sort of nerd gang. I’m determined to not be accepted by any social group.

The only place I could find with chain wallets on the day I bought this was a Spencer store, and this was the only wallet with a chain there that didn’t have a picture of a skull or skulls on it. I don’t like skulls. I like actual skulls, just lingering around, cackling at people, picking fights. I wouldn’t put up with that normally, but skulls don’t realize how pathetic they are and I find them more endearingly pitiful than irritatingly delusional. I can handle illustrated skulls in the context of full skeletons, when I want to see skeletons. I don’t want to be seeing skulls without skeletons every time I buy twix. And yes, this even holds true if the skull is bright pink against a green background. What really bothers me is that most of them don’t even have jaws. They have upper teeth but no lower teeth. Why have teeth at all, then? How is the organless heap of bones going to chew the food it has no biological necessity to eat or ability to process?

Skeletons get no respect. They don’t deserve it, either, but in the absence of that, let them keep their jaws.

Police find skeleton inn. You know skeletons are bad if it’s illegal just for them to rent out beds. As I touched upon in the previous image, one gets ZERO REST when skeletons are around. It’s a total scam. There are things women love in bed, and none of them are skeletons. All those skeletons are going to JAIL. You could make the argument that these are honest, law-abiding skeletons trying to run a business. I welcome you to make that argument and OUT yourself as a skeleton, so that I can call the police again and report skeletons on the internet. I can tell you my plan because skeletons are dumb like that.

When I purchased it, the wallet, the cashier asked me if I would like to give the store an email. I said I’d have to think about it, because I wasn’t really sure what I’d say beyond that I liked some of the wallets they had for sale that didn’t have “cute” skulls on them, and I thought this was adequately communicated by me purchasing one. And then the woman clarified that she meant I should give them my email address. Oh, all right. Two mere syllables could have saved us so much trouble. I would give up my mail code so I could be informed about upcoming sales and promotions. At Spencer Gifts. I considered this, and in so considering I assessed that in my life I have made a purchase at a Spencer store approximately once every twenty-six years of my life, and I currently own all the novelty items featuring nude senior citizens with intestinal disorders I expect to need for the foreseeable future, and so I gave them your e-mail address instead. Take that, skeleton.

When my brother Idaho lost one of his many lost wallets some years ago, he eventually received an assortment of oafy knick-knacks in the mail accompanied by this note.

My wallet had 300 dollars in it. I’m worried I’m going to get a cake with a stripper inside. Because I don’t like naked people in my food, and if it’s my money I’d rather have a big scone instead.
Truthfully, I like pies best, but when I considered making a picture of a giant pie several people assured me those were “unoriginal,” and the last thing I want is to eat like a hack.

I like these wallets. They remind me of dilapidated housing. It’s like carrying a shantytown in your pocket. Who’d want to get at any money or personal items that are kept inside something like this?

I knew it. They’re hoarding illegal library cards. Fookin’ prawns.

3 Responses
  1. 1
    7:22 am, October 4, 2009

    The Hoober-Bloob Highway sez:

    My sources inform me that if your dog and your wallet are both on chains, there is a high probability that the area opposite your throat may be ruddier in hue than is typical for such.

    Also, though I am also not especially fond of skulls myself, I must confess that I find those without a lower jaw somewhat less irritating than those still retaining one. While it is indeed admirable that you can still feel some sympathy for them concerning their constant, unjustified grinning, most of us just find it exasperating by this point. Boneheads, the lot of them.

  2. 2
    7:27 am, October 4, 2009

    Capital One sez:

    What’s in your wallet?

  3. 3
    2:09 am, October 6, 2009

    Umpulurgit sez:

    Once, when I was in school, I was made to watch the cartoon made about your name. I recall it being too unremarkable for me to recall much about it.

    I am merely a proponent for completion. The argument could be made that even a complete skeleton is still an incomplete being, but what it lacks is itself complete in its own way without the skeleton. The discarded jaw on its own has very little visual appeal. Even if the skull, without the jaw, seems functional to some, I still think of the fate of that which is missing, which gets no attention without its other part. I don’t see why they should ever be separated. It isn’t fair. The jaw can’t survive on its own.

    Big buck$. I must be loaded down with ca$h, because I can’t fasten the buttons without great effort to force the thing closed. The only other option is that the wallet is shoddily constructed, and I don’t want to consider that because then I’ll have to buy a different wallet which will probably have partial skull imagery printed on it.

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