- Me: You're home early.
- Jason: Yeah, kinda.......
- Me: ...................
- Jason: I think N**k and I are done.
- Me: Why? What happened?
- Jason: Well, we got into it while I was driving. I kind of, like, tapped someone.
- Me: Like, tapped their car?
- Jason: No, she was wal--
- Me: Wait, you tapped a human?
- Jason: Yeah, but I mean she's fine. She was walking across and the light turned green so I just went and she was just there.
- Me: YOU HIT SOMEONE WITH YOUR CAR?
- Jason: I did the right thing. I went go on green.
- Me: Did she fall?
- Jason: No, no. She kind of just flopped up onto my car and then rolled off into a somersault.
- Me: Are you sure she's ok???
- Jason: Yeah, she's fine, I mean, she was fat so it just sounded kind of loud.
- Me: FAT PEOPLE DON'T SOMERSAULT!!!
- Jason: SHE WAS FINE!!! I DID THE RIGHT THING! GO ON GREEN!
COOLEST VIDEO EVER. God I miss the 90s.
Yes. My roommate/best friend Jason and I have text message conversations often while we are both home. Why? I’m not really sure. Should I be embarrassed posting this? Nah. What I really find embarrassing is the fact that I just had to dictionary.com how to spell ‘embarrass.’ Who would believe that at one point in my life I was enrolled in the OU school of journalism? Shit…
Jason is right, though. This sitch I’ve got goin on is bad news. Today I considered dumping my two little lovers I call Index and Pointer, moseying on over to Hustler on Sunset and upgrading to something plastic… Slightly more sizable with the ability to vibrate. Maybe I could even find another pink and purple tye-died one (which Jason picked out for my during my last dry spell a couple of years ago). Sadly, my mother found it in my luggage while I was staying with her for a bit and disposed of it. We never spoke a word of this incident, but we both know it happened. I just pray she didn’t know what it was, came to the conclusion that I was too old for some silly toy and took the liberty of disposing of it for me. (I was slightly mortified, but more pissed than anything).
Holy balls I didn’t think this was possible!! I remember the first time I saw The Fifth Element in 5th grade. One of my faves.
I love you, Billy. I hope you’re not spending your time snorting coke off a transvestite prostitute’s ass these days.
With only a month and a half until I turn 25, I don’t have much time to figure my shit out before having a quarter-life-crisis.
I realized something today. If I ever have grandchildren, they will be fascinated by two things:
1). I knew what time was like before the internet.
2). I was born in the 1900s.
I can just hear myself now… An 80-something shriveled up prune of a thing:
“Back in my day we didn’t HAVE the internet when we were kids. Back in my day, us kids knew how to entertain ourselves! We played outside and used our imaginations!”
Or…
“Back in my day, we read real BOOKS! With pages!”
“Back in my day, we had to watch movies and TV in 2D!”
“Back in my day, the gentleman courted a young lady through text messages and free beer for at least a week before he expected a blow job!”
What I look forward to about being really old is pretending I’m senile and, in turn, being able to say whatever the fuck I want. I hope I make it that far.
Let’s be honest: Once in junior high the main reason we were excited about going to church camp was the idea of sitting in the back of the bus, hiding under a blanket with our boyfriend and hoping to get finger-banged through our panties.
(At that age, any girl who let a boy go under the panties was a slut).
Doll Face. Beautiful and frightening.
