Enemy of the State


I might be famous one day, if not for my “quirky” prose than for bursting into flames while being tasered by the police because I was huffing gasoline. And if I’m not famous for bursting into flames, I’ll definitely be famous by sheer proximity, because I attach myself like a leech to people who seem destined for fame.

(Example: Johnny Depp once gave my flute teacher’s friend his number. 3 degrees from an Oscar nomination, baby!)

When that day comes, I am terrified of one thing and one thing only. No, not the compromising pictures of me crawling out of my USAIN BOLT SUIT. Olympic medalist in the haus! (That’s a little multicultural humor for you there.) Not the top-secret documents in which it is revealed that I am Quentin Tarantino’s ghost writer. Nay, not even the incriminating email in which I FORGET TO USE THE OXFORD COMMA.

(I’ll give you all a chance to reach for the smelling salts after that scandal-bomb.)

No no no no no. I am terrified of my true self being revealed through texts with a certain “Notorious M.E.C.” Who is saving my texts, you ask? Why, Facebook and/or the Devil, of course. This begs the question: are they one and the same? I’m not sure, but I’m positive that everything we do is being recorded for an evil, relentless, unsympathetic posterity.

(This attitude, my friends, is called a “conspiracy theory.” And it’s okay to have them. Everybody does.)

My text messages reveal me to be an extremely reactive, judgmental, neurotic capslock abuser with the vocabulary of a sailor PhD and the humor of a shining star of comedic genius and the paranoia of a serial killer and also someone who has really long eyelashes. (Notice how I made the serial killer a man. That’s called sexism. Women can be serial killers, too!)

Here’s a sample interaction between toridotgov and M.E.C:


M.E.C.: I have no IDEA why the horror of the world is constantly making us suffer. WE SHOULD BE LAUDED LEFT AND RIGHT.

I mean, that’s cute and hilarious and we’re clearly both in MFA programs given all that alliteration, BUT WE ALSO COME ACROSS AS DELUSIONAL POWER-HUNGRY MANIACS. Though we are delusional power-hungry maniacs, so at least our texts represent our truest selves. It’s good to be honest. It’s good to be real. Just be cool, everyone. Be cool.

image by Beth Hoeckel


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