So the other night, LN and I did something we'd wanted to do since we ran into each other months ago -- buy a couple of bottles of wine and look through our high school yearbook and talk shit about every. single. person. Not an easy feat when there were 800 people in your graduating class, but somehow we managed. (We should also thank LN's sister for actually dragging that thing all the way to Australia, it weighs about 30 pounds). Sample conversations:
* * * * * * * * * *
Zander: Oh she was nice.
LN: Yeah her parents must have been proud...until she got knocked up and had a baby 5 months after graduation.
Zander: Slut!!
* * * * * * * * * *
LN: Oh he's gay now.
Zander: What?! No way.
LN: Well, I heard it from a pretty reliable source.
Zander: Okay we'll give him a 60%. It's not like it was on his Friendster profile or something. Moving right along...
* * * * * * * * * *
Zander: Oh man that girl was just gross. Like I didn't even know her at all and I hated her. You can tell she sucks just from looking at her.
LN: [Turns to the personal photos section of the book where there's half a page of pictures of her and this girl from 3rd grade through to senior year]
[silence]
Zander: Whatever, she still sucks.
* * * * * * * * * *
Was heading home when I saw the greatest thing ever -- a fat bald guy with tattooes everywhere, halfway through a six-pack of beer, just sitting on a bench and yelling incessantly at no one in particular. He also smelled like pee.
It's really heart-warming to see a kindred spirit every now and then.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Then you would have loved the guy walking in the middle of the street this morning, doing a surprisingly decent job of convincing us of his sobriety by staying RIGHTON the line, but then losing all credibility by waving his arms in an "Everybody up!" sort of fashion when there was clearly nobody down and then smiling a smile that only insane people smile when they know something you don't know and that's totally fine because I don't want to know and then deciding to vocalize whatever was on his mind (I said I DON'T want to know, sheesh) and continuing with the drunkenness. At 11 in the morning. Thanks, pal.
Post a Comment