Dave, Kennan, Alex, and Marshall came to party in AA two nights ago. I felt like I was actually being myself for the first time in god knows how long. We all have such unabashedly similar senses of humor, it’s almost hard to describe. Something about snuff films being filmed in storage B and Marshall being forced to consume a mandatory block of tofu with chopsticks.
I think we might have overwhelmed young Ellen Creal.
Ann Arbor is dead. Okemos is a cesspool. The remaining alternatives are sparse and slim.
When I don’t feel like talking to anyone, there is no changing my mind. Temporary social paralysis? Hey whatever you wanna call it. I want out of this shithole.
You’re a heart attack, just the kind I like.