So I just sent a certain Brooklyn babe this note and I really think it's something marvelous. I really don't care if I look smug/self-important/vain for posting it. Bitch, please.
It reads:
1. Phone numbers are like doggie leashes. Sometimes you just need to hit the park and run free without 'em, I say. Let's go with the 'freedom from technological shackles' concept and make you not having my mobile number a very avant-garde thing.
2. The timing for me getting this note could not have been more perfect since MY BROTHER JUST GAVE ME A POLAROID CAMERA! He found it when he moved out of the frat house (oh yes, the FRAT) for the summer and gave it to me with a shrug and the remark, "yeah... you seemed like someone who would be into that."
mwahahaha.
Anyway, I'm home for a couple days to see the fam and my older brother who's in town from Shanghai. woot woot. So let's catch up little mamacita! (I do not actually know how to spell 'mamacita' so if that is horribly wrong please do not take it as an anti-Hispanic slur, mearly evidence that I took the rather useless road of French class in high school, not Spanish. Just saying).
Anyway, has been a crazy week. Some bastard stole our rent checks from the drop box and is trying to run off with shit-tons of pirate booty. No-good-shithead-bastard-dishonest-mongrel-good-for-nothing-louse. Or my new favorite term, "Balderdouche." (love it!)
kisses kisses kisses,
mitchie
OH MY GOD ALMOST FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE DAMN NUMBER! HAHAHA! ***.***.**** [oh no you don't, blog-o-sphere-ites at large]
WHAT AN IDIOT! HAHAHA! LOVE YOU!
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