Something I didn't say about being drunk with Josh's family is that we talked theology. I don't usually talk about God or eternity or anything like that. I don't need to. I know what I believe, and that's about all I need to know. Some people believe in certain things, and if they believe in those things, they never have to die. I found out Josh's family believes in some of those things. Sometimes, I wish I could believe in some of those things too.
I went to a barbecue place for lunch today. I was with some ladies. They are pretty amazing ladies. Two teenagers came into the restaurant wearing spandex body suits. They got their barbecue to go. One of them was wearing a red body suit and the other was wearing a blue body suit. I think they were nude under their body suits. They covered their junk with cupped hands. One of them was really skinny. The type of skinny where the spine resembles the notches on the back of a dragon. I was hoping for some sort of performance, but I didn't get one. They got their barbecue and left, just like everyone else.
One of my idols (yes, she is that amazing) turns out to be super approachable and awesome. She's a writer. She wrote one of my favorite stories. If you buy your books at B & N, you won't know her, but one day you will, I promise. She'll be the literary goddess you envy. Even if you don't really read, you'll know who she is. You'll say, "God, her words could make dead birds fly."
I wrote a bloody finish to a story today. Something gets bisected, that's all I can say. It's not dicks, if that's what you're thinking. For dicks, see below.
I have to crochet a bunch of dicks tonight/tomorrow. Yes, I do. You may not know this, but my crocheted dicks were featured in Playgirl magazine a couple of summers ago. How about that?
Like all the people around you, I've been listening to FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE.
A former classmate and I went for milkshakes last night, but the milkshake place was "out of" milkshakes. I think they just didn't want to make them for us. I had a cheeseburger instead. I don't even like cheeseburgers, but now I think I might.
Josh is listening to some pretty awful music. I want to slap his computer. I imagine the music would skip a beat even though it's playing over the internet. A laptop is not a jukebox. Oh, wait--I like this song. Yes, keep playing this song, whatever it is.
I went to a barbecue place for lunch today. I was with some ladies. They are pretty amazing ladies. Two teenagers came into the restaurant wearing spandex body suits. They got their barbecue to go. One of them was wearing a red body suit and the other was wearing a blue body suit. I think they were nude under their body suits. They covered their junk with cupped hands. One of them was really skinny. The type of skinny where the spine resembles the notches on the back of a dragon. I was hoping for some sort of performance, but I didn't get one. They got their barbecue and left, just like everyone else.
One of my idols (yes, she is that amazing) turns out to be super approachable and awesome. She's a writer. She wrote one of my favorite stories. If you buy your books at B & N, you won't know her, but one day you will, I promise. She'll be the literary goddess you envy. Even if you don't really read, you'll know who she is. You'll say, "God, her words could make dead birds fly."
I wrote a bloody finish to a story today. Something gets bisected, that's all I can say. It's not dicks, if that's what you're thinking. For dicks, see below.
I have to crochet a bunch of dicks tonight/tomorrow. Yes, I do. You may not know this, but my crocheted dicks were featured in Playgirl magazine a couple of summers ago. How about that?
Like all the people around you, I've been listening to FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE.
A former classmate and I went for milkshakes last night, but the milkshake place was "out of" milkshakes. I think they just didn't want to make them for us. I had a cheeseburger instead. I don't even like cheeseburgers, but now I think I might.
Josh is listening to some pretty awful music. I want to slap his computer. I imagine the music would skip a beat even though it's playing over the internet. A laptop is not a jukebox. Oh, wait--I like this song. Yes, keep playing this song, whatever it is.