By Ron Swanson
Hello. I am Ron Swanson. Leslie has asked me to contribute to this book. I told her I was not interested one hundred times and she kept right on asking. I have worked with her long enough to know that this means I have to do whatever the thing is that she has asked me to do. Once she asked me for permission to hire a mime troupe to perform at the community center, and I told her she could not, and she sent the mimes to follow me around for the entire day and pretend they were crying, ostensibly because of my cruelty. Another time I told her she could not create a "double-Dutch jump rope club"(?) in a park, and she sat cross-legged on my desk for thirty hours. Dammit, I'm getting angry just remembering these things.
She also does all my work for me - not because I ask her to, just because she wants to, and I do not - so I owe her a lot of favors, so I will contribute to this book. She suggested several articles I had no interest in writing. I countered by suggesting that instead of writing any of those articles, I would instead go to my cabin in the woods for a month and pretend our conversation had never happened. She got very excited and told me that this was an excellent idea, because then I could write of my experiences "off the beaten path" in Pawnee. "Like Thoreau at Walden Pond!" she squealed. I told her Thoreau actually went home every night he was "living" at Walden Pond (true - look it up), and that I thought that made him kind of a pussy. She told me to watch my language and that I had one month to turn in my diary. And now here we are.
One Month Living in the Woods In Pawnee
By Ron Swanson
Typed on an Underwood 5 typewriter with original carriage return that I found in a dumpster and completely restored. More »