im sorry, i couldnt hear you, what?

for any of you that have recently spoken to me on my cell recognize the above statement. you think i cant hear crap because my phone sucks or i have bad service. usually, i blame it on my own hearing. see, my ear drums are scarred because ive perforated them so many times. the last big ear drum burst was the result of an ill landed jump i made off a 40 foot cliff into the waters of smith lake. but the reason i cant hear isnt because of any of that. ive decided to come clean. its the voices...you know, the cliche movie kind: "the voices in my head." so now rather than ignoring them and covering it all up with the ruse of poor hearing and bad cell serive, i have decided to do two things. one, come clean and admit to everyone the truth. and two, to actually obey what the voices inside my head are saying. i think its gonna be sort of like 'obeying my thirst' and drinking sprite. except that i generally ignore my thirst and i've never liked sprite. except that one time that i shared a can with jennifer when i was 15. jennifer ended up becoming my high school sweetheart. she is a model now, go figure. i didnt like sprite then either, but sharing a can of sprite was about as close to kissing a girl as i had ever gotten at that time. i couldve cared less what the contents of the can had been.

so anyway, back to those pesky voices. they are telling me to give more high-fives to people. not only that, but i am supposed to call "high-five!" out loud as i raise my arm and open my palm to potential high-five friends. tomorrow i am supposed to drive out into the country and park my car and throw my keys into a multi-acre patch of kudzu and then walk back into town and stop in the winn-dixie and give the old guy who looks nothing like ed asner or the dad from happy days a big wet slobbery one. after that i am to buy a pack of cigarettes but not smoke them, just stand around and do that box pat thing that all the smokers do before they pull out a smoke. then i am going to say hello to every person that walks in until ive said "hello, welcome to winn-dixie, home of the lean ground round and charlize theron's least favorite place to shop" 38 times. after that i am going to the blood bank. ill give a pint or two of mine or david schwimmers blood and eat the crackers they give me like a rabbid squirrel. my squirrel-like behavior with literally drive me up a tree, where i will sit and have an exestential crisis involving the olsen twins, lysol disinfectant and johnny cash's 'five feet high and rising' played 84 times backwards while i contemplate just how ive gotten this far and where do these voices really come from. all that while coming up with a strategy on how to live the rest of my life as a former vegan transvestite scrabble champion. my musings will all end once i climb out of the tree and find somebody wearing long sleeves and blue jeans. then ill give them the johnny cougar mellencamp 'hurts so good' bad touch and itll all be a-ok.