on the fourth day he appeared. he looked a bit like a canary wrapped inside some kind of plastic bag. i didn’t want to touch him at first. i knew about germs and cleanliness and frankly i was one of those types of guys that just kind of got skeeved out by things that maybe most people don’t get skeeved out by. like carrots for instance. i can’t stand even the sight of them. i feel like i hear nails scratching a chalkboard over and over and over again. the only thing that can drown out the feeling is boy george man. not the new boy george with the slick hair and sober stare. it’s when he had all those colors in his hair and he was on everybodys pencil cases and thermoses and folders if you were under thirteen and you knew all the words to karma karma karma karma karma chameleon and there were just rumors that he was on drugs and was gay and was just a total mess and not the star of your entire life along with michael jackson. that’s the only shit that works for me when it comes to carrots.