1984

In 1984, when I was only 14 years old, we had to make a time capsule for a class. I kept the envelope in my files over the years and recently realized it was past time to open it (the envelope was labelled, "Do Not Open Until May 19, 2004. If I die, burn this sucker.").

I vaguely remember making the time capsule and thinking I would be disappointed when I open this after waiting all those years. I didn't want to include anything that might be useful, so I just included some writings and stuff I would have thrown away otherwise:

There were some biographical things:

My best memory is:  the comic book convention
Recently I've learned: That I like heavy metal (Black Sabbath)

I also included two pretty piss poor short stories:

The first one is titled, "The Tragic Life of Walter Locatelli." It was written on a classic typewriter, which looks pretty rugged after having written everything in word processing programs for the last 10 years. It begins, "Walter Locatelli is an unhappy man. As a child, his parents tortured him in his crib".
It goes downhill fast after that, and soon degenerates into a bunch of incomprehensible gibberish.

The second story isn't as good (it was difficult to find a suitable line for posting). It's a war story - "They killed some of our guys, but we killed more of theirs. My partner, Alvin, was shot down. He owed me $12.00, but his wallet was in his pocket floating over the horizon with the rest of his bottom half; so I started swimming that way too, looking for it".

I also included this horrible photo of myself as a kid, sitting on Santa's lap and looking nauseated:

Ho Ho Ho.

And a drawing of my cat, Meemeek:

Meemeek..

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 7, 2004]