Recently, I won a trip to New York City to appear on "New York or Butts?", a game show where contestants must distinguish aerial photos of Manhattan from pictures of bloody, hemorrhoidal anuses. While touring the city, I discovered some great spots that all visitors to the Big Apple should add to their itinerary.
Two zombies who've just finished their shift board the train and kick me out of my seat, explaining that the backs of haunted house rides are reserved for cool people. "Have you ever touched and then ripped off and eaten a boob?" one says to me. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Winter is a cold, inhuman force, so plow drivers are trained to be cold and inhuman as well. On their first day on the job they're subjected to Chinese snowflake torture - basically the same as water torture except with snowflakes instead of water and Christmas carols playing in the background.
The walls of my dorm are covered with supermodel posters. Today I tore one down looking for an electrical outlet and saw the words "HELP ME" written repeatedly on the wall in a mix of blood and hair gel, but then the poster re-affixed itself to the wall like a rapidly healing wound.
Years of listening to my coworkers' stories about their weekends have given me the ability to see them as high-def 3D movies, more real than my own life. I walk into a coworker's campsite, her tent a skyward arrow indicating the course of her future.