September 22, 2008

You never know how much you love your home state/city/neighborhood until you see it completely trashed.

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Paul and I made bets on what type of cancer we are going to get. It's not a question of "if" to us, but "when".

Paul's guesses were prostate and liver.
Mine were breast and lung.

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What I sound like in text:

Me: wellllll i just likeeeeeeee
i dunnooooooo
he wants to hang out
but tonightttt
i dunno
i'll call him tomorrowwwww

Jen: ahhhaahaa
that was a perfect internet version of you irl
i see you squealing
and rolling on the floor




... I would probably be doing one or both of those things if we had been in the same room.

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Can I just submit this as my artist statement? I'd give her credit.

"I get why you're bitter. I took exactly one film class in college and — with the curious exception of the Douglas Sirk unit — it bored the shit out of me. I also once got busted for loudly crinkling a bag of Jujubes during a classroom screening of Vivre Sa Vie. I don't deserve to be here. We've established that. But I'm here. Five million 12-year-olds think I'm Buck Henry. Accept it."

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