Captain Pinhead reflects on what got him where he is, and what it is he does, exactly.


The Eventual Point of this Story:

Today’s theory is that all dinosaurs came from a common ancestor who should obviously be named Hpothesaurus Rex due to the speculative nature of his existence. Here is what he may or may not have looked like. He had countless unique features, of which nothing is known for certain but much is speculated.

In my younger years, I was always told I had such potential, that I was going places. And how these prophesies have come to pass – why just this morning I visited my local centrelink (the organization that pays the unemployed of Australia)  orifice and spoke at length with one of their psychiatrists about my thorough incompetence at all things life-related. She concluded that it was a miracle that I could function outside of a padded room at all – the added stress of employment was out of the question. I think it helped the situation that whenever I was asked a question I responded with “let me put my thinking cap on” and proceeded to encase my head in helmet fashioned out of a salad bowl covered in aluminum foil. And thus it came to pass that the mighty bludging has been extended for another year!

But I’m actually feeling really confident right now, my life has direction, for the first time ever. Mind you, the direction is down the toilet, by all conventional measures. I prefer not to limit myself to the pursuit of a career for love of money, but live in a modest box somewhere, sporadically studying whatever tickles my fancy until I discover a vocation so satisfying that I would gladly perform the tasks necessary in my spare time. If work means being forced to partake in something I have nil interest in and would not go near without the financial intensive, such work will be, in essence, the massacre of one third of my time on this planet.

I’ve had jobs in the past, and each one has lead me to be more dedicated to my current job of avoiding official employment.

I spent a lot of my youth as a hostess, I housed and nurtured a plethora of bacterial and viral infections – as cushy as this calling had been, my immune system soon hindered further opportunities in the field.

I had a brief career as a lifesaver, until I played a joke on two particularly macho coworkers and changed the sign from swim between the flags to swim between the fags….They failed to see the humour in my creation.

Following this, I immersed myself completely as a swimming instructor, and was soon resuscitated and fired as my inability to swim had become apparent.

Disillusioned by repeated failure to secure work with no qualifications, I decided to study farming, of all things.  Upon completion of the diploma I was devastated to learn that there was no work in the field. All of the fields were already occupied by other farmers.

When asked my occupation, I began responding with “2 cubic metres of space”. I also took on some freelance administration work, wherein I administered bitchslaps to people on the street who gave me funny looks.  This proved unprofitable, yet somehow, deeply satisfying.

Having been banned from my slap-happy areas, I decided to take a stab at homicide. Had I made a killing, I would’ve made a killing.

Failing that, I had a crack at being a cocaine addict; I then gave injecting drugs my best shot, but alas, it was not the career path for me.

Having lost all hope I proclaimed myself a monument to the futility of human endeavor and settled into a comfortable government-funded rut. I soon realized that I did not deserve this title, as there were thousands of others who had embodied it so impeccably; I relinquished the monumental title and finally settled on “pontificator” as my official profession. Mind you, I’m technically a professor to boot, since I make it a daily practice to profess something new. I draw conclusions from all areas of life, and I don’t let something as trivial as lack of coherence limit the scope of my hypotheses.

But I digest. Today’s theory is that all dinosaurs came from a common ancestor who should obviously be named Hpothesaurus Rex due to the speculative nature of his existence. Below, we see his copious amounts of theorized tentacle-like arms that have often been attributed to the Hypothesaurus, but we don’t see the hypothesaurus actually depicted – for to do so would ruin the powers of your imagination to create thine own version! The blue one at the top of this page is just some random dinosaur named Brian.



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