October 2011
Favorite Childhood Costumes, In Rough Order
1. Queen of Hearts (the dress was hand-painted silk)
2. Wicked Witch of the East (green makeup, ruby slippers, papier mache house hat)
3. Calamity Jane
4. Union soldier
“You’re stevedores.”
“What’s a stevedore?”
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Laphroaig and rare steak.
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When does the Michael Fassbender NC-17 sex addict movie come out?
I’m the only person in this movie theatre.
Expecting to be murdered any minute now.
A cappella rendition of Wonderwall.
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“Look at this picture of my dream house.”
“OK, but then you have to look at a picture of my dream Corgi.”
“DEAL.”
Are cornice problems real problems?
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“Not unless you’re actually in a room.”
“No, not even then. No sex at the Waldorf.”
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A girl in my class just told me I was the only person she’d ever met who made velvet look sexy.
Dadbro’s car got towed outside of a doctor’s office yesterday (he says the No Parking sign was not visible).
He thinks someone at the lot stole his Dum Dum Girls CD.
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“How did his face get blown off?”
“In WW1.”
“Ew.”
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My roommate just spent 30 seconds fixing a problem I’ve been trying to solve for two weeks.
Yes, I am wearing velvet tights and a fisherman’s sweater to class today.
Learning about the failings of metal.
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Staring at a book called “The Search for the Ultimate Sink”.
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Having to stop to buy thicker tights on the way to school because my skirt is too short.
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“So.”
“Yep!”
“Ugh.”
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I spent the last day of my grace period in various travel agencies. I liked holiday brochures, their abstraction, their way of condensing the places of the world into a limited sequence of possible pleasures and fares. I was particularly fond of the star-rating system, which indicated the intensity of the pleasure one was entitled to hope for.
I wasn’t happy, but I valued happiness and...
There’s a lot of microfilm in my immediate future.
Above all, reading the classic works of satire, lampoon, and burlesque was a tonic. Consoling indeed the realization that some illusions were meant to be shattered; that a clear comic light might be cast on the chaotic devil-murk of human emotions. Pathos could be turned to Bathos, and enlightenment unfold through wit, send-up, insouciance. Nothing was sacred, one found; even the grandest and most...
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“I want to get through this security line, get some aspirin and something cold to drink, and go to sleep.”
“Do you want me to spit into your mouth?”
“I said something cold.”
It’s difficult to discern authorial intent when a book’s previous owner has underlined sexy parts of a novel’s climax and written ‘LOL’ repeatedly in the margins.
I will always be grateful to Pedro Almodovar for releasing movies at the exact moment when all I want to do is shirk responsibility and spend three hours sitting in the dark, enraptured.
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People in Buffalo are really into Nick Lowe.
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