Allow me to take you on a linguistic journey unlike any other you’ve ever experienced, dear reader. This one is broad-spectrum dazzle machine, from the choice to capitalize final letterS on arbitrary words, to the repeated insistence that this all happened in real life. You know what? Before I prejudice you too much, have a gander for yourself:
The fuzzy part in the corner I had to destroy – Ron put his date of birth and social insurance number on there. Presumably to assure everyone in the public that he’s the real deal. Identity theft is so easy these days. Of course, perhaps you might not want to steal that identity; Ron doesn’t sound like a social climber.
Now I do want to go on record as saying that one’s family should never Robe one, especially not in real life. I might’ve even tossed Ron a quarter, or whatever it was he was asking for. Or .. did he want me to … disRobe him? Haha! No can do, Ron-o!
But where was our Mr. Loeman? One of his competitors came by blurting out, “…whore…holy shit! What the hell is that?!”, pointing at the placard. The drenched-in-urine smell that wafted around the corner with him snapped be back to my senses – you have to admit, the poster is quite mesmerizing. Sucks you in with it’s particular meter and tone. “I Trying To have them Chared in real life…” – haunting, melodic. Tragic (what with the charring and the whatnot).
But I suddenly noted that no one was hanging around the sign. No sign of Doug anywhere.
Guess he’s just trying to get his message out.
So here you go, Ron. Just keep your Robes on and your nose outta trouble. I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.
But what am I supposed to do with your SIN and DOB?