Identity Theft is Real–I stole Mine

Identity theft is a real thing. I mean the original kind. What sometimes happens is that when the identity thief steals an identity he forgets he stole it and thinks he was always that person. I’ve pretty much forgotten who I was before I stole my current identity. Sometimes though I do remember my original identity, before John Shirley. I was Elliot Furbell. “Putz” Furbell to his friends. Anyway, to his acquaintances. He…I… had almost no chin, very bad skin, an extremely long neck with an extra-protuberant adam’s apple. I also had a speech defect. I didn’t like it. Then I read an old book, in Latin, on identity theft.

And I found John Shirley. And people said I was a putz. What a twerp Shirley was. He had a desirable form and he wasn’t using it intelligently. So I took it. Sometimes he comes back, ghost-like, and complains. I tell him to go to Hell. He doesn’t have the will, the sufficiency of being, to resist the order. So back to Hell he goes.

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