The Diary of Livingston Spünhandel

After I put up the diary of Monty Stillwell a few days ago, Max approached me and asked me to run a diary page that he had found. It was rather tough, as the only remaining copy of it is tattooed onto the back of his knee, an area of the body which I'm now naming the "Chassle", not to mention it was in a mix of Latvian and Urdu. Luckily, I'm fluent in both. Izbaudiet pastu and اقوام متحدہ کے حوالے - سپیکر نے بم diggoty ہے



Where to begin. My name is Livingston Spünhandel and I would like to tell my story before the force-fed tuna that is slowly making its way through my digestive track kills me due to mercury poisoning. Damn you Simon and Garfunkel!

Anyways, it all started a few years back when I was moving to Rhode Island to become a preacher in a church that was on a corner of a dirty street in a corner of a dirty part of town that was basically the spitting image of the rest of Rhode Island. So to sum it up, this church was a real “Hellhole.” After living in an apartment complex that looked like the Brady Bunch (and no I don’t mean where they lived), I contracted polio from a pirate I met, at least I think he was a pirate, unfortunately he was mauled by a bear and had to be taken back to live on a watermelon farm with his mother, who ironically, was also a bear!

Four months into the whole “preaching the word” gig I made a startling discovery that I was, in fact, God himself! After I came to this fantastic revelation I quickly told the first person I saw, but the man didn’t say much (because of what I called being “star struck”) because he had this chronic disorder called Death.
I started to change things immediately, for instance, I made the laws of fractions change so that they would now be based on favoritism. I then transported myself to the nearest helicopter and turned half of Korea (the much larger and prettier half) into party favors so that they would finally be useful to the rest of us who were lacking things like, tiny erasers with smiley faces, and stale bubble gum.

After many long trying years, one to be exact, I became a free lance artist who painted things like oceans, things in the ocean, and things fornicating in the ocean. This collection came to be known as “God's mistakes”, and shortly after they were all burned to keep people warm because I had turned the sun into a slice of macaroni cheese cake (I didn’t think through that one......I should have made it into something spicier).

Half of a half of a decade had past and I had no friends, I heard voices, and people stared at me all the time. It was torture. I decided I didn’t want to deal with it anymore and tried to kill myself, but I forgot that my only Kryptonite was immortality.

What was I to do? I began making friends (I obviously missed some ingredients) but all I got was a Lobster, a little league baseball team, and a filing cabinet. The filing cabinet became my best friend because he was extremely organized and always told me that my hair looked fabulous.

Several years later, Shaun (the filing cabinet) and I were traveling the east coast of Idaho (because I had moved Idaho to the middle of the arctic ocean) when we decided to take a swim. Unfortunately, Shaun never returned because of something called “The laws of Physics” and I couldn’t bring him back because of something called “inanimate objects”, which was also the name of an adult film I later tried to produce starring Simon and Garfunkel, but the movies main soundtrack was anti-semitic and seeing as how they were both gay Jewish mermaids, they strapped me to the back of a vespa with 400 pounds of Tuna in my stomach and now I am slowly dying. It’s okay though because I turned Simon and Garfunkel into staplers and then I stapled the whole two dollars they had made off there career together and called it quits.

I’m glad that I can finally die and stop dealing with all of these stupid people. The thing is, I finally figured out that the only thing that can kill me is “fresh” tuna in a can. I guess I never thought of making the rest of the world smarter. Damn it. I’m such a god damn idiot.