Hi, Nina. You may not remember me, but the front end of your fancy 1996 Acura 3.2TL became intimately acquainted with the rear end of my 2000 Oldsmobile Alero at the end of December. Perhaps you recall that meeting. I recall it was quite traumatic for you because you yelled at me to look at your car, opining all the while that it was going to cost SO MUCH to fix, even though you were…
I hope the mayo was rotten and the chicken infested with salmonella. You feckless cretin.
… because he apparently is my neighbor: FUCK YOU. There are two lanes. You’re free to use the other one.
If the crack that you recently smoked is seeping out of your widened, red, wet eyes so that I can spot you from across the room and know instantly that you’re a crackhead who’s about to say something to me, even if it’s as lovely as, “You got a name to go with that pretty face?” do not be surprised if I laugh, embarrassed, and say, “Ha, no!” because I am merely standing there debating…
[for Tuesday, Oct. 9] There’s something I need to say to you. We haven’t known each other all that long, or spent more than seven hours together, but I’m in love with you. I’m not sure how it happened, and I wasn’t really expecting it. I’ve been in a serious relationship with Memphis now for almost three years. Sure, I’ve met other cities. I had a few brief flings with New York, but it was…
Sorry I was doing 67 in a 50. But thanks for letting me go. “Slow it down” was a nice touch, by the way.
You must be logged in to post a comment.