Practice Room
She led me downstairs and told me that it’s called the practice room. Everything is practice, she said. It’s all of our first times; maybe if we got another chance it could get better but that’s the problem: you only get one chance to fuck it up forever. She smiled.
On being older
I’m getting older. I am twenty two American years old. My user names for many internet websites is either Brownguy20 or Brownguy21. I am no longer that person. I feel like I am hacking into my account when I log in.
I’ve realized that as I grow older, I grow to love less and less things. Most of the things that I love now involve myself. If you’d follow me around all day and watch me do things you’d realize how awesome I am. In fact, you will become 27.9% smarter. See, I’ve already calculated it for you! I am a good friend as well. Here are some things that you will learn from hanging out with me:
How to have a headache
How to relax when it’s important, but never when I plan time to relax
How to drink whiskey (hint: use your mouth)
How to drunkenly topple a spongebob dvd player onto your head which then knocks over your garbage can (really useful at parties!)
I could keep going with my list, but I don’t want to intimidate anybody. I think in my old age I have become delusional. (picture unrelated. it’s actually my friend Mike who I call Mikey which I am not sure if he likes but I do it anyway)
