I've always thought that my parents were part of a trickle down method of parenting, you know, like reflection on the Reagan years. Looked good to a lot of people but basically I'm paying for all that neglect now.
I guess my parents have sort of a Lyndon Johnson feel to them, like there's no satisfactory reason why they became parents, like my real parents were assassinated and these people were next in line for the job. They fight a lot, but they'd never split.
I don't need to go to a campus bar to be reminded of my lack of success with a bunch of thrill seeking snotty college kids.
That's us; we're like celebrities to them.
No, we were celebrities. Now going back would be like doing Hollywood Squares. I'm too nostalgic, I'll admit it.
We graduated four months ago. What can you possibly be nostalgic for?
I'm nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I've begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I'm reminiscing this right now. I can't go to the bar because I've already looked back on it in my memory... and I didn't have a good time.
That is a bad habit. You really need to finish that in the bathroom.
This is useless. We just have to walk away like mothers in nursery school.
Cookie Man?
Cool! A dictionary! I'm gonna look up blowjob.
How do you make God laugh? Make a plan.
I almost wore my goatee tonight. Wouldn't that have been embarrassing?
I found myself writing 'wake up' and 'go to bed' in my day planner as if they are two different events.
I like that you drink. I like a bartender who drinks. Otherwise I feel like I'm being poisoned.
I think I'm gonna switch back to briefs.
If Plato is a fine red wine, then Aristotle is a dry martini.
It looks like a chicken wing or a cheese fry.
Oh, I've been to Prague.
