i’m going thru old notebooks and sketchbooks and i just found this in a notebook from 2009:
So there I was, just wandering around the desert. No memory of who I was, why I was there, or how I even got there. I was hot and dehydrated. Finally I spotted a cactus. Praying to James Franco it wasn’t just a mirage, I began running as fast as my emaciated body would take me to the Great Savior. I reached out to the cactus… and touched it! Finally! Something to drink! I searched in my pockets for something to penetrate the green shell; I pulled out a knitting needle. I didn’t even care that I had never knitted in my life and therefore would not own such an item. I was about to quench my thirst when a voice called out.
"Hold it!" I looked over to see an armadillo wearing an afro and diamond encrusted sunglasses. "What do you think you’re doing, son?"
"Saving my life?" Why me?!
"Where the hell you from, boy?"
"What do you mean?" I was genuinely confused.
"That accent. You British or somethin’?" It was then that I realized I had been speaking with a Scouse accent. How strange.
"I suppose I am British, then."
"How do you not know?!" The funky armadillo bellowed.
"Listen, could you not yell? All I want is something to drink."