Slowly but surely, my mom is making me clean out all the crap I left at her house. I’ve not lived in her house for several years, but now my younger brother has finally moved out and she’s done with it all.
On one of my recent trips to Mom’s house, I cleared out some of my childhood books (there are plenty more still waiting, too). Included in this plethora of paper packages were several notebooks that I had used in school or to just write bullshit garbage in. I found a Space-Jam spiral notebook from 1996 that contained this gem:
“BOOOOOOOM! So that takes care of the narrator.”
I was REALLY little when I wrote that. Even though the story was filled with toilet humor and useless asides about things I thought were cool at the time, I must admit that I am extremely proud of my young self for being so strangely meta. The main character spent most of the story confusing the narrator so that they could kill the god-like voice, take the power for their own, and rescue their friends from the torture of a bad field trip.
This month is Time Travel month here on Let Me Tell You the Story of, so later this week I’ll be posting an updated version of this sordid tale. It’s not really time travel for anyone else, but in many ways, nostalgia and memory is an ordinary way for ordinary people to travel through time.
This experience will start on Wednesday the 25th.