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The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
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Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind.
Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer.
He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous.
Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker.
Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger.
He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy. |
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Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Matrix Has Me
Them: Quentin, it looks like we need you to save us millions of dollars.
Me: No shit, Sherlock. Them: And for that, we need to erase your current identity, wipe out unnecessary memories in your brain, as well as burn out your fingerprints from your ... fingers. Me: Cool, I'd get to be some double-o agent. Can I choose a name? Them: We have also provided you with cybernetic enhancements just in case your arms fall to the floor from being worn out on the computer keyboard. Secure it from your officemate's corpse. Me: Do I get to see the sun at least once a month? Them: You will be hooked into intravenous fluids. Enjoy your existence. ~~~ Hoo-boy :< posted by Quentin |
1:36 PM
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Site design © 2006 Quentin Montejo Productions |
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