Arthur Graham’s Reviews > Journey to the Edge of the Flat Earth > Status Update

“Think of this as a kind of real hallucination, if that makes any sense. Every reality, dimension, plane of existence, whatever the fuck you wanna call it... it’s all not much more than someone’s hallucination. Again, if that makes any sense at all to you.”
“It makes none whatsoever, but I might as well just go with it. That’s what I’ve been doing my entire life.”
“Good," she said, "Then this trip will be a success.”

My time spent working at the video store will always be remembered as two of the most fun-filled years of my life. When you work a job where it’s perfectly normal to have customers ask you a question like: “Do you have Big Black Cocks for Tiny White Cunts Volume 4?” it’s tough to have a bad day at work.

“I go by many names.”
“Such as?”
“Jim.”
“And?”
“Just Jim is fine.”
“That’s just one name though, Jim.”
“It’s the only one you need to know.”

I was particularly taken with her backside. Now, by backside I don’t mean her ass. That seemed all well and good too, but I just mean I could only see the back of her body. She had a patch on the back of her denim vest of a band I’d never heard of, The Choadly Scrotes. The logo on the patch was a cartoon scrotum with many safety pins and barbells piercing it. That patch in itself won my admiration.

What in the world was I experiencing? The movie started out just like the one I’d always known and loved since I was just a toddler, but Luke Skywalker was not Mark Hamill. Darth Vader was a different character entirely, [...] The most striking difference, however, was the shots of ships flying in outer space. The planets were not globes. They were discs.

A Grey alien, I knew, although he was actually green. I’m betting his race takes issue with their given title. But then again, white people and black people aren’t actually white or black, so maybe I just think too much.

I’m not one to boast or brag. Most of the time. I once ate a 2-pound burger and two pounds of bacon-cheese fries at Fuddrucker’s. Accomplishments like that leave no place for humility. I am better than some people.

All 24-hour news channels are shit, no matter what dimension they’re broadcast from.

This book is a work of truth. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is purely intended. However, I think every character in this tale other than myself lives in an alternate reality, and they probably don’t care to read it anyways. If you think I based any of these beings or entities on you, you are clearly a nutter.