On average, every two seconds of my life I have shared mother earth with five additional people. Politics aside, at birth I was entitled to 7.4 acres of land on earth, just like everyone else; at twelve years old I was entitled to 6.1 acres; at age twenty-two, 5.4 acres. (That’s the average size of a Wal-Mart Super Center). In the words of William S. Burroughs, I can “feel them out there making their moves.”

By the time I was twelve years old I was sharing this planet with a billion people more than I ever had before. I am one of the estimated seventy billion people who have ever lived on Mother Earth, then when I was twelve years old I was sharing this planet with twelve percent of all human existence ever. Twelve percent. That’s believed to be how many Israeli teens have a mental health disorder, how many Dutch women have been raped, how many email users have actually tried to buy stuff with spam, how many U. S. homes have a Mac, how many U. S. citizens receive food stamp assistance, how many U.S. citizens were born abroad.

Within my lifetime, a bowling alley, a bar, and an ATM machine have been constructed for the residents of Antarctica. Last year, they ran out of condoms. Antarctica is the coldest place on earth. An Antarctican recorded the world record low of -128 degrees Fahrenheit in 1984. Antarctica is a desert, like the El Azizia Desert, where the record high, 136 degrees Fahrenheit, was recorded in 2005 by a Libyan.

Within my short lifetime China has initiated a plan to place a (multiple racial slurs deleted) on planet Mars. When will there be a bowling alley there?

Guilelessly Yours,

Pinky K. Pickworm