Going corporate: It's the End of the World...as we know it.

And the newest member of the capitalistic corporatocracy....Duke Hunter! Come on down!

And just like that, I'm thrust forward into the serious world of stiffs and swine. Does the company I work for profit from the military industrial complex? I plead the fifth, senator. I've put off selling out for as long as I could. And now, it is time to swallow my pride, and put my idealistic naivete's in my back pocket...behind my wallet.

As a strong proponent (understatement) of substance abuse, I'm probably the last person anyone would expect to be going corporate. On the one hand, I have to appear to be the straightest of edge in this new environment. On the other, I'll finally have the funds to fuel my drug crazed one-man carnival of treachery and mischief. A single existence and boring routine life has never appealed to me, nor has the constant monotony of everyday reality. Mix it up, I say. Why not unwind your mind and see what's inside?

To live my days as a purchaser, making business decisions and following stringent policies and regulations....and then spend my nights as a tornado of creative devilishness has a particular bent appeal to me. By feeding the degenerate monkey that rides my back, I can fuel the fire that allows me to attempt (by any means necessary) to entertain the few sick souls who find my twisted wits stimulating.

I may/may not be building up to some kind of crazed life lived somewhere just north of insane, but well south of genius. Whatever sacrifices I've made of my body's well-being have typically been paid back through new eye-opening realizations. Drugs make you feel as deep as the ocean. Sometimes the reality is that you're about as shallow as a kid's wading pool, but what better way to find out than diving head first straight from the high-dive? Right. High risk equals high reward. As Raoul Duke used to say, "buy the ticket, take the ride."

Madness. And everyday I'll start anew, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, giving the company my best in the hopes of upward mobility and corporate achievement. A shiny new plaque with my name engraved in gold, or: a new smooth surface to rack some rails before careening off into the warm Los Angeles evening...in search of new stories in the City of Night.

Sell-out? Maybe. Freak-out? Definitely. I have just begun to rebel against straight edged evangelists looking to cleanse the world of personality and uniqueness. An upstanding professional harmlessly endangering the whole of society...possibly bringing it to its knees with his army of dope fiends, loonies, and generally indecent, peace-loving, open minded people. Oh the horror.

I seek out those like me. If they knew how many of us there are, it would shake the very foundation of the square world...