It's funny how times change, isn't it? For instance, the human entities that make up the executive board of Ghost Patrol International Holdings LLLC were once executives for rival companies. And those companies had nothing to do with paranormal investigation and elimination. One was a successful wasteland transportation services conglomerate and the other was lowkey, a company best known for its failed efforts to breed a sloth with a donkey. It failed in so many ways, you guys. And the executive board of Ghost Patrol LLLC still sit as executives of companies which simultaneously compete with, contract with and contract as Ghost Patrol. This, budding entrepreneurs, is business.
What has me in a mood for dredging up the past? Well, you could say that we are getting the band back together. For a brief moment in time, all of the Ghost Patrol executives, sans one dangerous recluse whose location is known only to CIA satellites and a family of cybernetics enhanced raccoons, are going to be in the same place at the same time. When we first incorporated, the other executives informed me of the importance that we never all be in the same place at the same time and that I, personally, due to my incredible importance, should stay away from them altogether. If ever there were to be a cataclysmic event, the company could continue sans a C-something-O. The funny thing is they are always tagging each other in pictures on Facebook and attending events to which I'm not invited.
I had a lot of time to think on my way to California. I made a stop at an exclusive resort hidden deep in the Askja caldera in Iceland. Either "let me Askja a question" jokes are not appreciated there or they couldn't understand my thick American accent. They are pioneering a new kind of sensory deprivation tank there. Instead of the usual abyss of hallucinatory terror where the only sounds are the beating of your heart and the tinkle of your tinkle, these tanks have chairs and you can keep your underpants on (but you don't have to!). These super exclusive tanks are reserved for only their palladium-level and above members. The tank is roughly 900 square feet and the layout is that of a one bedroom apartment. You eat non-luxury food, sleep in a non-luxury bed, watch a single television with basic cable, listen only to the music available on free radio stations. Nothing is luxury. The sheets have an actual thread count instead of just an infinity symbol, the chair is a Poang. The internet is Comcast Xfinity. The wine selection consists of one red and one white and both are bottled by Trader Giuseppe. You can keep your cell phone but you can only get bars if you stand on the toilet and there are no Pokestops nearby. Once you enter, you cannot leave for 24 hours. It's a total mind bender. It just really makes you feel appreciation and empathy for things.
It took nearly two weeks in that chamber before I mustered to courage to do what I knew needed doing. For the first time in years, I had to go to work.
What has me in a mood for dredging up the past? Well, you could say that we are getting the band back together. For a brief moment in time, all of the Ghost Patrol executives, sans one dangerous recluse whose location is known only to CIA satellites and a family of cybernetics enhanced raccoons, are going to be in the same place at the same time. When we first incorporated, the other executives informed me of the importance that we never all be in the same place at the same time and that I, personally, due to my incredible importance, should stay away from them altogether. If ever there were to be a cataclysmic event, the company could continue sans a C-something-O. The funny thing is they are always tagging each other in pictures on Facebook and attending events to which I'm not invited.
I had a lot of time to think on my way to California. I made a stop at an exclusive resort hidden deep in the Askja caldera in Iceland. Either "let me Askja a question" jokes are not appreciated there or they couldn't understand my thick American accent. They are pioneering a new kind of sensory deprivation tank there. Instead of the usual abyss of hallucinatory terror where the only sounds are the beating of your heart and the tinkle of your tinkle, these tanks have chairs and you can keep your underpants on (but you don't have to!). These super exclusive tanks are reserved for only their palladium-level and above members. The tank is roughly 900 square feet and the layout is that of a one bedroom apartment. You eat non-luxury food, sleep in a non-luxury bed, watch a single television with basic cable, listen only to the music available on free radio stations. Nothing is luxury. The sheets have an actual thread count instead of just an infinity symbol, the chair is a Poang. The internet is Comcast Xfinity. The wine selection consists of one red and one white and both are bottled by Trader Giuseppe. You can keep your cell phone but you can only get bars if you stand on the toilet and there are no Pokestops nearby. Once you enter, you cannot leave for 24 hours. It's a total mind bender. It just really makes you feel appreciation and empathy for things.
It took nearly two weeks in that chamber before I mustered to courage to do what I knew needed doing. For the first time in years, I had to go to work.
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