Dear Emeline,
Do not run away, ever again, if you want to even see a book with
Clifford on the cover. One time, everyone in my house was busy, and I wanted a Slurpee. Now, I'm no dummy. I know the way to the 7-11 and back, so I figured I'd shift for myself.
I can't get into detail, here. Suffice it to say, I don't think I even saw a Slurpee for another six monthsm. That may have been on account of the police involvement.
It's funny you should mention gypsies, because I'm still trying to work out what that means. Sometimes though, my mom adds, "If they'd take you."
All is not bleak, however. I totally bet you'll get your orange, because that's healthy food. Give your mommy a big kiss and tell her she's the prettiest and maybe you can catch up on Clifford, tomorrow.
Love,
Chris
P.S. How do you feel about older men?
The past 100 messages have made me realize that:
(1) Though I have heard *of* My Chemical Romance, I've never heard their music;
(1a) Oh, PLEASE. Don't EVEN act all shocked -- I am the ultimate mainstream boring uber-dork when it comes to music;
(2) I like the Pussycat Dolls (though I think their name is stupid, even for a burlesque act), in a Funyun sort of way -- the kind of way that makes me unable to change the radio station when they're on, NOT the kind of way that makes me buy their CD;
(3) I'm very overdue for a haircut;
(3a) I'm sick of haircut pressure -- either someone wants me to cut it short, or someone says oh, baby, I reeeeeeealllllly like it longer, can't you just let it grow? -- because I don't even know what *I* want my hair to look like;
(3b) My hair is NOT a commodity;
(3c) [Huh. I'm suddenly feeling all kinds of righteous feminist rage over how willing I am to jump through hoops and change my appearance just to make people happy. I'm like a trained goddamn seal playing the horns. Okay, then -- I AM PRETTY NO MATTER WHAT LENGTH MY HAIR IS AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK. Ahem.]
(4) Dude, I do NOT know where #3c came from. Although I mean every word;
(5) I just made muffins from scratch, and boy howdy are they good -- also very full of fiber and with almost no sugar and no flour at all;
(6) And now I have polenta in the oven.
(7) There is no number 7.
To sum up, I have Big Feminist Issues with my hair, I like bad music, and my apartment smells like blueberry muffins and polenta.
Crap. I broke Bitches with my weirdness.
. . . .
. . . .
THE POWER!!!! AHAHAHAHA!!!! THE POWER!!!!
How do you feel about older men?
I like them just fine, but my mommy says that I am betrothed to Owen. I met him. Pretty cute. Great taste in t-shirts. I think his sister is looking, though.
I didn't get my orange. Mommy says we're "out". Whatever. I'd make that "W" sign with my fingers if I knew what a "W" was.
I did get some cheese. And mommy is letting me watch "George" now. Which, I kind of like better.
Hey - what's a Slurpee?
(psssst...Steph.....you know nothing of hair rage until your own mother - a woman who curses 80's hairstyles as much as she curses The Gap for going "trendy" - gives you a mullet. IJS.)
THE POWER!!!! AHAHAHAHA!!!! THE POWER!!!!
Is it wrong that I imagine you saying this in the tone of voice from the Spidey 3 trailer?
Well, why don't you just ask your precious Owen, who looks a lot like me, but I'm taller, can read, and I'm going to be a scientist doctor astronaut builder teacher when I grow up.
Is it wrong that I imagine you saying this in the tone of voice from the Spidey 3 trailer?
That's pretty much the voice I was using. With a little bit of Vincent Price thrown in for good measure.
Well, why don't you just ask your precious Owen, who looks a lot like me, but I'm taller, can read, and I'm going to be a scientist doctor astronaut builder teacher when I grow up.
Wow. You're just as touchy as your mom when someone comments on how many usernames she's had.
Oh, wait. Are you the chick whose mom is a boy? How'd that happen, anyhow? I'm very interested in science experiments.
How'd that happen, anyhow?
I've been told teleporter accident. We ran out of monkeys.
Here's a plan - let's you and me gather up the rest of the Buffista sprog and go get an island. I mean - they've been talking about it forever, but geez getting them to do anything as a group is like herding cats. That way - Clifford dog, Slurpees, and none of this "grounding" stuff.
Kind of like Lord of the Flies, but without the, ya know, killing.
