We slept on a futon in the basement and they moved a fooseball table to accomodate us. Our attempts at whispers were probably overheard, but it was all infinite so we whispered anyway.
And in the middle of the night as the whispers were dying, I got called quirky and delightful, the feel good girlfriend of the year. And we whisper-laughed and squirmed into spoon shapes and slowly drifted to sleep.
And in the morning when the sun was trying to infiltrate the dusty basement window, I woke up and my eyes were lazily scanning the movie posters on the wall and they hooked on the poster for “bend it like beckham” with Ms Knightley’s abs, carved-looking and fierce. And then in the top of the poster in small white print were accolades for the movie, “Quirky” “Delightful” “The feel good hit of the year!” and I wound up and punched the man sleeping next to me and he woke up and knew what I was seeing and we both laughed till our stomachs hurt.
The best part was that it was daytime, so we didn’t have to hush anymore.
Talked with someone today about blogs, whether he should ressurect his. I was gunning for yes, and we talked about how lame they are getting and then he decided he wanted something more polished and final. And he asked how many articles I had published and I said none, if you don’t count uni papers. And he asked why and I said I had no interest in it.
I’m all talk.
I hate everyone’s blogs. write write write and everyone is trying to be so original, but you know theres only so much innovation to go around and the market’s pretty cornered at this point.
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