so last nite at the bar after dinner this guy shows up and sits beside fil and chats up the bartender, his name is mike, the bartender not the dude, anyway blah bla, after their catch-up, dude pulls out a novel and reads it whilst simultaneously eaves-dropping on fil and i’s game of twenty questions (i was lindsay lohan, fil was obama) (and hey eaves-dropping at this bar is my thing pal!) and so deeper into his book he gets and then he says out loud OH-NO! and gasps, then keeps reading. i tried to stealthily stare at his eyeballs to see if he was speed-reading or had that CAN’T BLINK SO EXCITING reading face on.
that was the funniest part of last nite, for me.
oh also, the dude down the hall who habitually whistles his fucking head off when he’s cruising the floor, same guy i deduced probably didn’t have the internet cos he has a newspaper subscription, welp, i overheard the clacking of typewriter keys last nite, so that’s two proofs now of no internet. i inform fil of my typewriter discovery and he all personalizes it (typical fil) and says that he enjoys the paper, yeah yeah that’s fine but you’re not a fossil hermit who whistles constantly out of boredom and loneliness.
god i am so fucking right i am restraining myself from writing further about how right i am cos that would make me no better than the whistling geezer down the hall.
IF YOU HAVE A NEWSPAPER SUBSCRIPTION AND A TYPEWRITER AND YOU ARE IN YOUR 70’S THEN YOU DON’T HAVE THE INTERNET STAMPED IT NO ERASIES!
AND YOU HAVE A TYPEWRITER BECAUSE YOU ARE ONE OF THOSE WRITES LETTERS TO THE EDITOR TYPE GUYS!
haha accidental pun, typewriter, type guys.
yes i have gone out into the world today ok shut up! and i wore the success dress and matching big red umbrella and everyone was in love with me and it poured and i went grocery shopping and now i will work out bye.
oh noes my signature move has been captured!