I really do love you. I'm sorry I was cold after you decided to go to Yale. I understand that I know nothing about the field of Art History and it is, perhaps, a good idea for you to go there... Really, I was just functioning as the mouthpiece of God. Are we really divorced now? Ok, I'm gonna do my work now, so that I can go to the show. Poolittle says hi.
You know, I noticed lately that everyone I meet seems to take a liking for Poo...I'm starting to think that they use me just to get close to her...how depressing...
Or else, my entire identity is just structured around being the "bunny lady."
Well, I suppose if I never marry, it would be more interesting to be the bunny lady than the cat lady.
Tee-hee, remember how Funker Vogt wears orange polo shirts and baseball caps on stage? priceless, absolutely priceless...
2 comments:
ayo why u not bloggin??!
DUDE!
The Time: This morning, 2am.
The Place: Queens-bound G-train
The Event: I was at Fulton/Lafayette--two stops from my station. The doors on my G-train open. I hear cheering. I think: Drunk Pratt Students. The doors close. Next stop, Clinton-Washington. The doors open. I hear cheering again. I think: Stupid Pratt Students. Next stop, Classon. I get off. I SEE THE DRUNKEN PRATT STUDENTS BOARDING ANOTHER CAR, DRINKS IN HAND, CHEERING MADLY. THEY MADE A PARTY TRAIN. RIGHT ON THE G-TRAIN. A PARTY TRAIN. IN BROOKLYN! BRILLIANT! THE G-TRAIN! BRILLIANT. Oh, Berlin.
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