Bad Autistic
A Novel By Tim Barrus
This is where I am supposed to say: I always knew I was different.
I always knew I was different.
The punchline is about repetition. Allow me to repeat myself. The next journalist who asks me if I am Aspergers will, indeed, receive an answer. I have practiced the answer in the mirror many times. Shirtless. Nod and smile. Nod and smile.
I am wearing pajama bottoms.
The scientific community should take note. To what degree is nodding and smiling an indictment. Or even a diversion.
I have no idea. The one thing I will not do is nod, smile, and wave. Royalty is dead. I am nodding, smiling, waving, and brushing my hypocrite teeth in the mirror. No one can see me doing this because I have locked the door so no one can see me waving at the timer and the camera and all my followers on Toothbrush. I have more followers on Toothbrush than Mickey Shivers. Mickey Shivers doesn’t post every day. I post on Toothbrush every day. Sometimes, five, six times a day. I told you: Repetition.
Whenever you post on Toothbrush, and you feel kinda driven to do a rant, when suddenly, a rant comes on.
You have to do the rant while you are brushing your teeth.
If you have to do porn, you have to film it while you are brushing your teeth. Two people brushing their teeth can be dangerous.
But those are the Toothbrush rules, and there are no exceptions. I use Mister Foamy Toothpaste. I do not know why Mister Foamy is a snowman. The foam tastes like an old copy of Drummer Magazine.Â
People want to know about the pajama tops. All they have ever seen are the pajama bottoms and the bathroom with the mirror and the camera and the toothbrush and the Mister Foamy.
They are either going to turn you into a tragedy or a clown. If you cannot be these things, do not apply for the job. Any job.
Sometimes, the pajama bottoms fall if I stand up straight. I always knew I was different. Smile and nod. Smile and nod. Affordability. —
Tim Barrus
















