The Believer: You are wild and uncool

I think The Believer is for people who were uncool in high school then turned into cool adults.

Inspired by the Games issue of The Believer.

You are wild and uncool
You are an agony of games. I want to peer edit you and peer into you. I want to destroy monsters and not fail. I want this wonderful moment on Valencia Street.

Dear great song
Dear great song: I like your lyrics. I like the way you are subtle and the third line is like Frank Sinatra. You sing my way. You sing everything I’ve ever wanted to say about lizards, about Germany, and about his very sharp suit. I want to talk to you after the show.

I am saving up
I am saving up for a very successful career. I am saving up for parties at my apartment. I am saving up for a time to say, "I wish to thank everyone who got me to this point now. There are too many to list," I will say. I will be wearing a vintage tie. I look forward to reading my memoirs. Yes I do.

Destroy all monsters
My life is divided in two parts. Do you want to hear about part one or part two first? I will tell you about both. Just tell me where to start. Okay, I will start with part one. I am on a fishing trip with my friend Wayne. It began when we saw a cave that opened like a man about to hear a rumor. I said you’re going in. He said, we’re going in. I said okay we. Inside there was a dry goods business where we joined in some role playing games. Imaginary fighters, thieves and dwarfs helped us gather wildflowers. In part two we are at a retirement community. I can tell you I have mixed feelings about forgetful old men, including Wayne, including me. We say stuff like, “My kids are coming tomorrow,” or “Have you ever been to Lake Geneva?” or “Where were you shot?” It drives me crazy, but I can't help it. This is who I am now. Now you know the truth about my life.
I am the winner by any real standard.

Stuff I’ve been reading
Eighty-seven is not just my lucky number. Ask any animator, coach or drone-metal engineer and they will tell you the same thing. Still that doesn’t stop me from being worried all the time. Take today: I am trimming and lengthening my legs like usual, and generally wasting time while I wait for my wait for my World Cup to arrive. I’m having it cleaned—I’ve been meaning to do it for years. My wife says, If you are so scared, you should take action. So I take a bath, I garden, I smoke, I drink tea. I don’t feel any better. I’ve read all the books. Maybe I will try an all-meat diet.