Confessions of A Peanut Butter Junkie

Interlude: Retractions, thoughts on hitting the big 4-0.
I won’t name any names at this time, but people are once again implying paranoid schizophrenia. I have issues. Everyone does. I am not a paranoid schizophrenic.
Let’s take a look at the story I told about Ellie Ardalani. Remove the money from the story and the story is still true. Forget I mentioned the bonus money. I worked in an office with a woman who couldn’t stand me simply because I could not blow a little Irish Catholic Sunshine up her ass. (I’m not even sure there is such a thing as Irish Catholic Sunshine).
I’m willing to remove the money from the story because we had 4 hurricanes in Florida one year. Mercury Insurance had been writing home owners insurance policies and it’s possible that they took a pretty good loss when Charley, Ivan, Frances, and Jeanne blew through town.
I started writing my story because I had to, and because I knew that someone would be reading it. I wanted someone to read it, otherwise why would I have bothered to write it.
I have one other retraction. My grandmother on my father’s side of the family passed away in November of 2005, not 2006 as I may have mentioned in the Peanut Butter Confessions.
I’m standing by everything else in the story with no other retractions of any kind.
My name is Kenneth G. Donnelly and I was born July 3, 1967. Do you know what they called that summer? They called it the summer of love.
Turning 40 was easy. Thinking about turning 40 was the hard part! I dreaded it for years.
You know what I wanted for my 40th birthday? I wanted to weigh 145 lbs. I wanted to be physically fit. I almost made it. My 40th birthday came and went with no notice by anyone at all, and I was a little sad about that, but mostly I was just relieved. Thank god I didn’t have to look at those black balloons you see around offices sometimes when someone turns 40. Over the hill!
Over the hill my ass!
I can’t tell you if I made my goal weight because I no longer have a bathroom scale and the reason I no longer have a bathroom scale is because I no longer have a bathroom. In July of 2006 I became a homeless man. Three days shy of my 39th birthday I lost everything. Hell I’m sitting here writing this in a public library, and I’m wearing some other guy’s clothes. The only things I have that are truly mine now are my thoughts.
Being homeless is just like living in a third world country, only every once in a while you get to visit the United States of America and you don’t have to get on a plane.