I've had a bad day. Please tell me a funny story or remind me of a hilarious memory.
If I check this blog tomorrow and there are zero comments, I...I'm going to be really fucking pissed. Yeah.
Same shit, different outfit.
Same shit, different outfit.
6 comments:
Dear Jeano,
Cheer up! It's (almost) Autumny!
And send stuff to P. Schooner sometime. Now, I'm just a lowly "1st Year Reader" this year but just wait. Somehow, somehow mysteriously, the Schooner-reader higher-ups will find themselves mysteriously relocated to the Willa Cather archives...
and then the magazine will be mine. All mine.
Yesterday at work, as I texted you, Matt used the phrase "BOGA underwear." It immediately made me think of you and wish you were here to make fun of people with us.
Other nicknames?
Smelliot (aka Sir Tans-A-Lot)
Nesticles
Dark Crystal
Pig
El Diablo
MuuMuu Baggins
Curly Sue
Crabtastic
Rape Eyes
MISS YOU:)
I call to your attention one brilliant night spent around the broken coffee table of Highland. There was a game of TP goin', and perhaps we were on our eighth bottle of wine, and somebody, I believe it was between you and P, came up with the concept of an "eracist," that is, SOMEBODY WHO IS ONLY RACIST ONLINE.
Seriously, I once had to run to the bathroom of the marketing firm and laugh in the stall all by myself at our brilliance. E-racist.
The time you fell asleep first.
Crap. That was creepy.
Our "roadtrip" to the country store in Jordan where we bought beef jerky and candy cigs. Yummy.
I've got one word for ya: netherpurse.
Ah, thanks everyone!
That totally helped.
Underneath...purse. Ah yes. Netherpurse.
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