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it's a good thing I don't do drugs|02.03.03

While lying in bed more than half asleep listening to some old guy who was admittedly not actually a doctor drone on about knowing the cause of and how to prevent or possibly cure cancer in some infomercial that came on after Sports Night I realized something. Well, maybe I shouldn't call it a realization since it's something fairly obvious. It's just not something I think about everyday. Anyway, it "occurred" to me that there are words on everything. Logos, labels, titles, tags, stickers, wrappers, directions, instructions, inscriptions, warnings, expiration dates, copyrights, serial numbers, made in China: on fucking everything.

It's usually pretty easy to dismiss these inane ideas, which most are, and go about my business, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Surely there had to be something around here that wasn't stamped, marked, branded, or written on and there'd be no sleep until I found it.

Does toilet paper count? No. Why not? It just doesn't. Fuck you, it's three in the morning, it counts. Look inside the roll, on the cardboard. Damn it!

When Vanessa Williams started hocking her acne cream I decided that since I wasn't going to get any rest anyway, maybe I should give up the search and reevaluate some things. Then I saw it. Sitting on the table in front of my face the whole time was a Slinky. I quickly inspected every coil and found not a single letter, number, or Japanese symbol. My mind finally at ease, I played with my Slinky for a bit, had a cigarette and went to bed.