“A[], where y’at? I wish you pick up the phone.
‘Cause I need my money straight up. I mean,
Do I got to come up to Pizza Hut?
Or do I need to meet you and my sister
Down there so we go to your babysitter?
Which one is it? I mean, call me back.
Let me know something. ‘Cause the way I feel,
I feel like you just trying to dupe me
Now. You and that little a-rab. So…
I ain’t gonna let that ride, though, you dig?
You need to call me back. <long pause>
That’s 50 bucks you owe me. Fuck, I know you.
I don’t want that. I want my money, man.”

[An audio version is available. Let me know if interested.]

If you need someone to tell you to not be a fool and give it a try: don’t be a fool and give it a try.

Disco ball, and dancing about it.

(Retro, active, raised.)

“I can’t do this all on my own…”

Scrubs is a strange mix of comedic and dramatic that I feel I perceived unintendedly. The reality of it beats down so unceasingly that it is impossible to not at least appreciate.

“Aw, damn. I missed the annual sleepover, didn't I? That wonderful time of year when you two crazy kids throw caution to the wind and make sweet elbowy love to each other."

I need a raise, a shower, and a nap.

Absolutely, naught.
On again, ‘off.
Blackjack, some other time.

“Let it be noted that even when no one else has class, G[] has class.”

I want a fake ID for my 21st birthday.

(Seriously.)

“I'm not going to be civil…”
Not happy.
“…I’m so gone…”
Keep coming back.
“…Did you hear about Vegas…”
Not this year.
“…A grey is starting to plague us / And it won’t be long…”
Almost over.
“…You just do what you do just to survive…”
Be lucky.
“…Holding out for something I can’t feel…”
Be independent.
“…Yes, and I’m so gone…”
A place where I can live.
“…My feet just drag me home…”

50 Euros : 50 Gyros :: Gyro House : Our House.

“Basically, whoever gets there first should order 3 gyros.”
That’s a good idea on principle.

“Someday we'll find it…”

Connections made, missed, found, lost, and broken.

“…And what do we think we might see…”

NYC until Monday. Taking suggestions for next week’s adventuire.

Wanderlusting on.

Shrinkwrapped, cubbyholed, databased

“Did you know that…”

“If you could…”

Scatterbrained.
Say something.
Saying something.

…finish other people’s sentences, would you use that power for good or evil?

Filling the rest in, and closing my eyes to all else.

“The two men…navy blue robes…all was well.”

“I guess nothing can last forever…”

Senior year is not merely a culmination, not merely a goal: It is the horizon upon which prior years looks towards, gradually getting a clearer idea of what that period will consist of, yet is characterized predominantly by the fact that whatever lies beyond will be drastically different than it and what have gone before. For it does not merely culminate the prior 3 years, but all that have come before. Once time has elapsed and the mystery of what the future might hold has been pierced, the magic can never be recaptured. Anything left to happen must happen or be left undone. Senior year is the last gasp of the innocence of familiarity.

“…And if I had the choice / Yeah, I'd always wanna be there…”

City Museum 6pm-10pm tonight? Cell me if interested.

Pirates gratuitously use the subjunctive.

Walgreens: one stop shopping for all your piracy needs.

Riding shotgun with a shotgun and a jar of pickles.

We need a How’s my How’s my driving? hotline? hotline.

“i am in your X, Ying your Zs.”

X = bathroom

lol

Wandi here, wand’ring ends.
(Temporarily.)