Regular Guy

I finally admit to being a regular guy. I pump my automobiles and body full of regular gas. No premium petrol for me. I eat a large bowl of fruit with oat bran every morning to stay regular. I am a regular member of Amazon and Costco. No prime or elite memberships for me. I maintain a regular heartbeat except for the last few minutes of Seahawk games. I hope those few irregular beats will not kill me some day. I pray, vote, exercise, and floss my teeth regularly, mostly for selfish reasons. But I do not actually want to be an ordinary regular guy. I have always longed to be an extraordinary guy. I imagine myself as Jim Carrey in the The Truman Show movie where I am the center of a Universe. Donald Trump has been destroying my delusion by muscling himself to the center of my life. If Pope Francis voices support for same sex civil marriage, I find myself wondering how this will affect Trump’s bid for reelection. This is crazy. I am no longer the star of The Geoff Show but have been relegated to a supporting role in a simulation Universe. I am a regular guy, maybe a gadfly who provides comic relief. The other day I dreamt everyone was backstage wandering around in good spirits. I hope it was not a garden party Wake after wrapping up The Geoff Show. Donald Trump was very visible. He was bragging about some aspects of his performance but he was not his usual obnoxious self. I did not see the Pope anywhere. I do not know if that is a good sign or not. I was looking for my former doppelganger Ricky Nelson when I woke up.


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