That party was such a blast. Three years later, I can still remember so much about it: How her cozy Park Slope apartment was strung up with Christmas lights. How I planned to stop by for a quick drink, maybe three, before heading to another party across town. How I charmed her chic 20-something colleagues from the online fashion magazine with my big ideas about female comedians and sex. But of all the details I can summon, one I cannot is how I got home that night. Trying to remember the end of that evening now is like watching a movie with a reel of film missing. I’m talking to this girl on the back porch, I’m laughing with this girl on the back porch, and then … the screen goes blank. CUT TO: Me, in my Williamsburg loft at 6 a.m., the white curtains billowing in the breeze.
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alternet)
I will take an alcoholic who pukes in the potted plants over a flat-earther any day of the week. Cheers bro!
ReplyDeletewhat he said
ReplyDeleteYou made your point in your first Comment TMS. Spammed your last one for just being deliberately insulting and asshole-ish. Just to let you know :)
ReplyDeleteTMS - You can take your insults and mock outrage elsewhere m8ty.
ReplyDeleteNot interested in your ad-hominins. Ta ta.
Sounds like zap needs to go to st Cathrine street and get some loving.
ReplyDelete