Wednesday, December 9, 2009

My First Book

As part of my ongoing series of self-effacing humor, I thought I would bring you some more of my work from when I was a young child (because I know you're all dying to see shitty drawings that I did in first grade). Most of you probably don't know that in first grade, I was an aspiring novelist. I wrote a short book, an existentialist self-examination into the workaday habits that drive the human spirit. I now present it to you in its entirety, with annotated commentary to help you understand the inner workings of the boy who would become Justin T. It's called "What I Do Every Day," or as I like to refer to it, "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." (nobody steal that title btw) Enjoy:

Despite my publisher's admonitions, I felt that the mohawk giraffe-dragon with a guitar was a fitting piece for the back cover of my magnum opus. Let's begin..

Like most young children, I started the day by brushing my teeth. I also drew pictures, presumably while looking directly down at the desk with a spotlight in my ear.

I also enjoyed watching television, which in our house was actually a coin-operated laundry machine, as you can see from my drawing. Also apparently I didn't become an ace at spelling until 3rd grade. Shcool? Really? Embarrassing.

Like many of the great literary minds of our time, I read a book every day, apparently in a room with a fan. Also, you're probably wondering why "Christmas" is misspelled. It's not. We actually celebrated Chistmas, which is a completely different holiday where you decorate your tree like Pablo Picasso.

"Shaking the presnts [sic]" is not a euphemism for anything, though my ambiguous pseudo-knees and inappropriately wide smile might suggest otherwise. I honestly have no idea what's going on in the next page. Apparently I said "55," and there's inexplicably a man, a tornado and a car at the bottom of the page. Also it appears that I am talking to a light fixture, or am about to get curb-stomped by a giant foot. Childhood was a weird time for me.

Fearing my skin wasn't as bronze as it could be, I was forced to sleep in a tanning bed at night. Also, I ate alone in a diner every day at lunch, contemplating the meaning of life. I told you this was some existential shit, folks.

 Flouting conventional manners, I ate my supper with a hat on. Take that, social grace! Also, it's a little known fact that I turn into Jack Skellington the Pumpkin King when placed in a bubble bath.

Even in the 1980s, I was gaming before gaming was cool, and apparently playing World 2-1 of the original Super Mario Bros. game for NES. I also thought that a little abstract art wouldn't hurt the book, and that my age should be written in Chinese.

In first grade, I didn't yet know how to write in cursive, but I knew there were some connectors so I just decided to improvise. (Side note: this is still how I write in cursive to this day.)

As you can see (hopefully), my writing has improved drastically since my early work, but it's clear that even as a child I showed prodigious promise as an author. The autographed first edition hard copy is available for sale; inquire for price.


Mark Osler said...

That made me snarf.

magnificentvista said...

Chistmas must be a magical time. Not only do you get to decorate your tree like Picasso, it also causes your hair to grow at an alarming rate!