Hydrating and upshifting into the weekend. Need to see what kind of damage I’m capable of doing before Monday morning. Check the balance to find an adorable sum of money sitting in my offshore account at Korean Exchange Bank. It’s big enough that I don’t feel desperate yet also small enough that I feel ridiculous for owning a money clip. What is your value as a human. Log in and see your life’s worth as a number. How long the fuse is before your life blows up and you’re dumpster diving behind Whole Foods. How long your leash is. When I blast off from Incheon International next year I’ll be packing about six months of fuck-you money. Gravity and reality will not exist for your boy Fred until around the time of the next presidential election. Hopefully we get another socialist gay Muslim alien gun-grabbing welfare queen as president. Not that I expect to receive any handouts. I just really enjoy how angry leftist presidents make my mom’s friends on Facebook. Overweight white mothers in nightgowns learning how to make memes and abusing the SHARE button. Voting Democrat is the ultimate troll move.
But I digress. Six months of scratch—would have been more but we have taxes here in Korea too. Feed the beast. At least since I fled the homeland my tax money now goes toward barbed wire on the DMZ instead of Hellfire missiles. I like to think a 4th grade Pakistani boys soccer team and at least a camel or two are still alive because of me.
Six months’ worth of paper, with drawings of dead guys on it. It would have been more, maybe seven months. But our planet has imaginary lines drawn all over it and if you want to move your paper across one of these lines you have to pay a fee to turn your paper into slightly different-sized paper, with different dead guys on it. Fucking fees. Banks get to take some of your money just because you want to move it a few miles. The bankers in Davos are laughing at us this week. Picturing us peons counting our small bills of Monopoly money, exchanging them cautiously. They laugh at this and at us. They skim money from me and you and everyone and convert it into heavy coins that look like pirate doubloons. They bag them up and drop in into vaults as deep as an elevator shaft and never touch them again and then they giggle about it. I envision this as being 100% of their interactions when they convene. I am probably right.
Anyway. Have a good weekend, everyone.