That would include not only Rector Hismer but also Donald Segretti, Juliette O'Boof, Kenneth Winckblad and Dorshet 'Fleet' Mrimset Jr. My association with the aforementioned lowlifes was detailed in a blockbuster investigative exposé that appeared in a serialized format during the terribly humid Summer months of 1991 on Benson News Briefs. My certification was taking forever to come through and this unwanted public attention not only wouldn't help but could actually scotch the whole fucking deal. 'What should I do?' I often wondered. In the end I realized I had no choice but to return to my childhood home and try to retrace the steps that brought me to this very sorry low point in what passes for my so-called existence.
I set out in late December 2013 for Lynchburg, Virginia with exactly sixty one dollars in my wallet and eighty seven cents in my faux leather change purse. As I slowly made my way from the Southeastern quadrant of the Northern section of the Lower Middle West, it occurred to me that I'd forgotten my compass and would have to rely on my sense of smell as well as a moderately appealing length of string that was stashed inside my left shoe for just such an emergency. If I have to strangle one more corrupt State Trooper with my bare hands it'll be too soon. Know what I mean? I'm kind of 'funny' that way, I guess. Do you ever like to play with dolls?
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