I Hate Me, part 153,091
[NOTE: I don’t think I’ve told this story before. If I have and it’s slightly different, I’m sorry. This is how I remember it today.]
By the time I was a senior in high school, my grades had gone to hell. I was making good money as a cook and I enjoyed getting fucked up. I had a paper due in english class, it was supposed to be a short story. Now at this time in my life I fancied myself a writer/reporter. Inspired in equal parts by Hunter Thompson, Woodward & Bernstein, and Kolchak the Night Stalker. I was completely full of shit. I ignored the upcoming due date for story and of course at zero hour, I had nothing. I was listening to a lot of Rush at the time (it was 1980) and then it hit me, I would write out the story of 2112. My teacher didn’t know who Rush was, it was perfect. Now my typewriter was broken and no one every used my mom’s good IBM Selectric, I’m sure she would have let me but that would have to involve actual interaction with my parents. So I wrote out this half-baked piece of shit that consisted mainly of me writing out the lyrics in paragraph form. My handwriting is at best unreadable and at worst looks like something that inspired the Necronomicon. I handed it in. A week later I got it back with UNREADABLE!!! scrawled on it in giant red letters. I was never sure if that was for the content or the presentation, it was probably both.