by Brad Rose
I staged my own death, but it was a terrible flop. At least, I look great for my age. Now I’m liaising with myself and trimming my own bangs. Since I’ve been wearing Dr. Scholls insoles, I’ve gotten a lot taller than I look, even when I take a moonwalk on one of those subterranean exoplanets. You’ve got to start somewhere. I don’t know if you’re having the same experience as me, but luckily, I’m invisible and have a parallel personality. That list of felony charges hardly affects me, thanks to my current emotional address. Besides, since I recently graduated from an online course in telling polite little party lies, I’ve gotten good at keeping secrets. You’d never know I was just multitasking and thinking about the closest exit. In fact, my tuxedo is entirely inflammable. I mean, in the best possible way, of course.
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