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From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book

The Will

I realized how lucky I was to still maintain the few bills I had. Rent was falling behind, but my landlord understood the situation and even agreed with me that with all the fuss over me it was silly to have me on such a roof in the first place. My landlord let me slide for the longest time. Eventually his patience ran out and I suspect it was because he had a business pre-finishing trim packages for homes, and I think the city might have sent their fire department to lean on him with a little heat.
       The fall and injury was expected, but for a guy who will paint on knee pads is another thing. I figured they would find another way to screw me up sooner or later.
       I realized that the ability to stay alive was to make myself worth more being alive than dead to everyone. So I decided to make it to where the state of Washington can't have any inventions if I die. I met with John and had him witness my first will eliminating the use of my inventions in Washington State. The thing is the will wasn't actually what they call on the up and up. You actually have to have two witnesses in most states and three in a few others. However, the will gave the folks in Washington an indication of what tricks I had up my sleeve. I didn't want to do anything drastic because I didn’t like the idea of getting my shit blown away by doing the wrong thing with a few words. I realized that the power I was using within my will to stay alive, also had the power to kill me if I did something wrong.
       I continued to toy with the way I could set up a will to keep myself safe from being snuffed out. I knew I had to be worth something. I just needed to figure out how to harness it. I contemplated on how the patent laws are set up and how to use certain rules in my favor. There were two things I knew I had in my favor. My innovations are some very important ones and in other countries, you can't set something on the shelf as you can in the US. A patent holder can't stop someone in a foreign country from using or manufacturing it unless you are doing something with it themselves in that certain country.
       I realized all I had to do was make up a will with some conditions. Therefore I came up with the idea that if the beneficiary in my will didn't comply with my wishes, they would have to relinquish the property rights to the next person in priority mentioned my will.
       I knew that if even if the dirty politician’s states were turned into dry counties which meant that they wouldn’t be able to use any of my inventions, the auto manufactures would still be able to sell their vehicles wherever the people move too. Even ghost towns need transportation -- even if it turns into a used vehicle market. The auto manufactures would know that people would still need new cars where ever they live. But what if --, the Europeans could use inventions I’ve come up with for automobiles -- and the US auto manufactures couldn’t? Gee, that would mean that the European auto manufactures would be able have an advantage over the US auto manufactures in their countries, now wouldn't it? Then the US auto manufactures would have to worry about the European auto manufactures killing me off now wouldn't they? It also means that the US banks and US government would have to worry about the repercussions of my will if I died because of the fluctuation of people moving throughout the states, now wouldn't they?
       Then you may have come across the thought, “Gee, he just set himself up to be killed by the European Auto manufactures so they will have advantages over the US automobile manufactures.” Well, not necessarily. I felt that the Europeans who know what was going on were probably laughing at the people in the USA. The deal is: They would know that having my inventions patented would provide a better quality product which would cost less to insure.
       The plan fell together in my head in minutes. Having my journal in hand I was provoked to write it down, followed by a bunch of ha, hah, hahs’. Then I thought: It’s late at night and I don't want them to be on to what I’m about to do. Since I have this rule about not being able to tear pages out of my journal, I grabbed a knife and cut the page out and hid it. (After the will was all set up, I fastened the page back in my journal with tape.)
       As I wrote out my will, I was sure there were people watching it unfold. I even had to make a couple runs back home from the copy shop because the underground seemed to be coaching my through the process of putting the right words together. One bad word they wanted me to omit was, "substantial," (as in substantial efforts to get them on the market.) The word only left a spot open for the guy down the line in priority of ownership in my will to have a fancy lawyer decide that the effort to get the inventions on the market by the higher priority property owner wasn’t substantial enough.
       Basically one guy could have got the thing rolling and then the next person in priority might get some fancy lawyers fight for the property rights after the other would have had it on the market.

A result of moving my literature onto the computer was something that many of you might find hard to believe. I started to hear comments in the background noise on TV about what I was writing.
       One morning I could have sworn that people on the street of the Good Morning America show in New York had access to what I was writing. They sounded happy go lucky and it seemed like I was a sideshow to them. The folks in the back-ground noise hooting and hollering about how “they” were going to help “him”. It wasn’t the holiday picnic they were thinking it was and the truth was known that things weren’t very rosy on my side of the country. I was doing my thing and it seemed to be entertaining them and then I mentioned that I had to go out and take a shit.
       Unlike when I started shitting in the five gallon buckets; just spraying a disinfectant around the upper edge wiping it dry wasn’t the thing to do any more. During the summer months while I’d have the cover off, an occasional fly would land in the bucket and lay eggs. The creepy part of it was that little maggots would be crawling up the side of the bucket as I would be trying to take a shit. (The solution to the problem was using a toilet seat from a portable camper toilet seat I’d found in the shop’s loft when I moved in.)
       When I got back to my computer after taking the shit among the crawling maggots, I mentioned the experience on my computer. The response I heard on the street in New York was about what you’d expect – quit muted. The atmosphere had changed drastically. Those few lines I had written blew all the wind out of their sails. I have to be the first to say that it could have been my imagination running overboard from sleep deprivation, but those same kinds of games I played over time proved to me that I could not have imagined all of it. (Who knows? I might have imagined it that very day. Maybe the sound man just turned the mixer down on the audience, but I don’t think so.)

Now you may be wondering why I just hadn’t talked the landlord into having the sewer hooked up to the shop by then, but by then, I was falling behind on rent and I sure wasn’t going to ask him to spend the money on such a thing when he wasn’t receiving any revenue from the building.
       Originally the plan was to open up the manhole cover in the middle of the road with the cover hook I used when I painted manholes, and dump the buckets directly into the sewer line, and that worked at first, but my busted up foot wasn’t about to let me carry the buckets of shit. As result I began to collect an assortment of buckets of shit inside the shop. I learned that a little bit of paint thinner on the top would eliminate maggot growth.

The next chapter of Sunnyside's Lousy Book is:

The Lousy Book

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