Date: October 3rd, 2024 10:53 AM
Author: spectacular federal gas station alpha
October 3, 2024
Bari Weiss, Western U.S. Regional Reporter
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7:00 AM â "Awake and Revved Up"
Boom jolts awake in his rundown Omaha apartment, surrounded by piles of old newspaper clips, legal briefs, and Mountain Dew cans, his brain working in short-circuited spurts like a malfunctioning $lot machine.
Every morning is like coming back from the deadâprobably because of that time ADM "did him dirty." He's never quite sure whether today is the day his brain finally decides to tap out. But then again, Boom's brain already called it quits years ago, so whatâs one more day of fighting through the fog?
He peers down at his wheelchairâpimped out, of course, with chromed rims, a sound system that blasts early 2000s hip-hop, and neon lights under the frame. A tribute to his gangster daysâat least in his mind. If ADM hadnât ruined him, heâs certain heâd still be running the streets, probably a multi-millionaire by now.
Damn them. His bald head gleams under the dim morning light, the result of years of stressâor maybe just geneticsâbut it only adds to the legend.
Boom shifts uncomfortably, the diaper underneath his pants reminding him of yet another casualty of what ADM did to him. "Can't even tru$t my own body anymore," he mutters. But hey, when youâve mastered poasting from a pimped-out wheelchair, youâve earned the right to skip bathroom breaks.
He rolls over (figuratively), throws on his tattered âFUCK ADMâ shirt, and contemplates the day ahead. Itâs tough being a mastermind when your brainâs in a constant power-saving mode, but someone has to do it.
---
8:00 AM â "Breakfast of Champion$"
Boom slaps together an egg sandwich, already formulating his first poast of the day. After breakfast, he rolls over to his desktop station, which features nearly a dozen monitors, several tied to distinct, supposedly "unique" monikers.
He hits the board with a fury, his mind buzzing: "fukin homele$$ rot ruining thi$ city. it'$ all becuz the lib$!" His signature styleâlittered with dollar signs in place of S'sâhas become a staple of AutoAdmit's grotesque culture.
It's the usual: an incoherent rant about homelessness, urban decay, and why everyone is âa f**king lib$â except for him. Somewhere in the chaos, he manages to throw in a reference to a grizzly bear story, just because.
He leans back, admiring his handiwork. 180s roll in. Boom is validated. Heâs still got it.
Somewhere, though, in the back of his mindâor is it the front?âBoom feels the itch. The subtle nagging voice of Mainlining and Evan39 whispering, each of them surfacing at random, pushing Boom into new directions as if theyâre all somehow...connected.
And then...BAM! A notification from LinkedIn: Chad has endorsed him for 'Wheelchair Maneuvering.' Boom screams into the void.
---
10:00 AM â "The Daily Grind"
Time to head out. Boomâs neighborhood is the kind of place where dreams go to die, but he insists itâs the heart of the real world.
With his trusty baseball bat firmly grasped, he roll$ down the street in his tricked-out wheelchair, heads turnâeither in admiration, confusion, or...fear.
Itâs hard to tell, but Boom assumes itâs admiration. Heâs a legend in these streets, after all.
"ADM did this to me," he mutters as a homeless man tries to strike up a conversation. Boom doesnât have time for that today. Heâs on a mi$$ion: to visit the local library and once again read up on how to sue ADM for everything theyâve got. They turned his life, and if thereâs one thing Boom knows, itâs that revenge is a dish best served cold and possibly in a small claims court.
At the library, he skims a 1998 article about an ADM plant explosion in Iowa. âThatâs the ticket,â he mutters, highlighting it with a crusty highlighter he stole from the Safeway break room.
---
12:00 PM â "AutoAdmit: Part 2"
Back at home, Boom logs back into the board. Itâs time for some trolling. He hits up Mainlining and Evan39, as usual. His poast? âEvan39, you're lied to& cheated out of your life then laughed at.â A classic, really.
Mainlining chimes in with some bear trivia, citing a recent Montana newspaper account of a bear having become addicted to "pep," and the trio dive into an absurd back-and-forth about societyâs decline, their shared misery, and who is the better bottom in SeaTTTle's underground gay scene.
But somewhere, deep down, Boom knowsâthere is no trio. They are all him. Mainlining, with his perfect hair and altitude-thinned clarity, is just the lie Boom tells himself about who he could've been, while Evan39, the IRL "bottom" who trolls Seattleâs dark corners, is the lonely, bitter part of himself he hides behind the façade of control.
Boom lets out a phlegmy, involuntary laughâhis body momentarily forgetting it was broken. And whateverâif anyone ever figured it out, would they care? Probably not. Itâs XOâif you are not constantly running schtick, you're already dead in the water.
Disco Fries drops by with a quip about Boomâs brain damage. Boom isnât even offendedâit's just part of the game. For in his realityâafter what ADM dared to do to himâBoom has bigger fish to fry.
He types out a quick response, mistakenly using his and adopting his Evan39 moniker: âHow dare you!â Who cares? Itâs all part of the schtick. The dark humor masks the fact that, deep down, Boom still blames ADM for everythingâhis wheelchair, his bald head, his diaper, his brain damage, even his limited success at trolling RSF into submission. Heâll get them one day, he swears.
---
3:00 PM â "Afternoon MelTTTdown"
Itâs time for Boomâs daily meltdown. Like clockwork, it arrives, and the source is always the same: a poaster on AutoAdmit who claims Boomâs pimped-out wheelchair is just a sad attempt at staying relevant.
Boom loses it.
âFAGBSHEEPLE..ljl.. NO IDEA WHAT ADM DID&Does! Sad"
His fingers tremble as he hits the âPoastâ button. There. Thatâll teach them.
But the reality is that itâs Boom versus the worldâand the world doesnât care. Except for his wheelchair. That, at least, still turns heads. Its ghastly neon lights under the frame flicker as he shifts in his seat, the slight crinkle of his diaper, a humiliating reminder of yet another battle he's lost to ADM.
But Boom? Boomâs still fighting.
---
5:00 PM â "Dinner and Delusion$ of Grandeur"
Dinner is a sad affair: leftover "pep" from his favorite local gas station, Kum & Go, paired nicely with a gigantic warm Big Gulp.
Boom doesnât need "fine dining." Heâs too busy planning his next move.
Tomorrow, heâll hit ADM with another LOLsuit. Heâll prove to the world that his brain damage is their fault. Maybe even unlock one of the five storage lockers he hasnât checked since 2014. There might be documents in thereâold checks, coins, something ADM left behind.
And maybe, just maybe, yet another of ADM's facilities will "mysteriously" and "magically" go "Boom" themselves ;).
Heâll become a symbol of resistance, maybe even a hero. Who knows, he might even make it onto the news.
Until then, thereâs work to do. He drafts another poast for AutoAdmit, this one filled with half-baked conspiracy theories about why ADM and the libs are secretly working together to destroy men like him.
Heâs halfway through a rant about Evan39âhow he was groomed by ADM and fed false "pep"âbut the words start drifting. Syntax collapses. Fog again. Doesn't matter.
This is...fine. Heâll poast it anyway. Someone will get it. Whether Evan39 himself or Mainlining. The so-called Holy Trinity⢠are all one in the same, after all, right. Hehe.
---
8:00 PM â "The Night Crew and the Fade"
As darkness falls, Boom logs onto the graveyard shift of AutoAdmitâthe so-called "Nightcrew."
These are his people. The ones who understand the blend of brain damage, pimped-out wheels, a festering hatred for ADM, and the subtle whispers of multiple personalities.
He fires off a final poast before bed: âJust Jump. You know who you are.â
Satisfied, Boom rolls back to his bed, ensuring that his CPAP is secure. The lights on his wheelchair flicker one last time as he drifts off.
Tomorrow will be more of the sameâmore brain damage, more AutoAdmit trolling, and one day closer to taking down ADM.
In the corner of his mind, Evan39 is already planning his next move. Mainlining whispers something about bears.
And Boom? Boom drifts off with the faintest smirk⌠until the lights flicker at 3:00 AM, just as his tortured slumber threatens to enter what former Jones Day Partner-in-Charge Wesley Johnson once called being "in the zone." His phone buzzes. Another LinkedIn notification. Itâs Chad again.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5605679&forum_id=2:#48158427)