People go to NASCAR for the crashes, which is the opposite reason why people go to circus performances. To see a juggler drop the club is disappointing and awkward.
I went to a circus performance by myself today. It’s been a pathetic day. I can’t wait for it to be over.
I’m just going to listen Al Green on repeat until I’m not sad anymore.
I walked into my apartment to Alexa and her boyfriend asleep as 30 rock played on
- Alexa: How was your date?
- Me: It was good, movies and drinks, you know. And some smoochin'. This time, though, I tried to slip some tongue and he was NOT having it. What do you think this means?
- Alexa: I don't know...
- Alexa: But what if I did know what that means? And I was like it means blah blah, blah blah.
Leaving Herbie’s apartment, I walked behind a couple. The girl kept talking about pulling switch blades from her cunt and stabbing people and killing people. I passed them, and as I walked down the block the guy yelled at me “you’re fucking weird. YOU’Re fucking WEIRD.”
Really I was just cold and trying to get out of west philly. I looked down at my jacket and felt, again, like a jackass for having sewn a sunflower button on it.
This girl yesterday scoffed at me when I said Play Boy had good articles. I said I’m not going to get off on images—I’m desensitized to them. She scoffed some more and then i made a comment about gifs. And she said “yeah, what about gifs? Are you desensitized to those too?”
And I said no.