As I traveled west I became more and more aware that information was being downloaded into my brain. I stopped at one town, where a telepath kindly told me that I had come into range of the Telepathic Web. I would lie awake at night, unable to sleep for the constant information my brain was experiencing. I asked a telepath if it were possible to download viruses unwittingly by listening to the Telepathic Web. He seemed to think I was crazy.

I was at the library to find out about this telepathic phenomenon, when I heard somebody speaking to a friend. "I was surfing the Web," he was saying, "and I came across this fruit worrying about viruses." I suddenly realized that my thoughts were going out onto the Telepathic Web, that I myself was a site. This disturbed me greatly, especially because there was a young lady telepath about whom I had been fantasizing strange fantasies. I got a call from her that night. She said someone had posted naked pictures of her on the Web, and was very upset at me about it. I told her I didn't know where the pictures came from, and she wondered why I thought she thought that I thought . . . the pith of it was that she wanted the fantasies to stop.

When you've got no babe to bed,
just surf the Telepathic Web.
And when you're lonely in the head,
go surf the Telepathic Web.

The Telepathic Web was a problem. The site that was my brain kept uploading all my dirty laundry onto anybody who should care to stumble upon it. But I found that when I pressed my eyes, I could see the radio-systems in my head that broadcast what was in my old bags; so I immediately cut out my eyes with a knife, reached in and destroyed the wiring of my brain, then replaced the eyes with a needle and thread. They fell out every once in a while after that, when the threading became loose, so I carried a little sewing kit wherever I went.

The Academy Awards is on tonight.

You know, once I watched the Academy Awards, and projected myself onto the screen, so that the audience and everyone watching could see my spirit, hear my thoughts.

That's because you're crazy.

I did it with the news too.

That's pretty fucked up.

I made sure not to watch any Presidential debates that year. I didn't want the Secret Service after my ass.

I bet you believed in Santa Claus until you were fourteen.

(A look of surprise.) You know, that's funny: I never believed in Santa Claus at all.