If anyone is interested in listening to the first 67 or 68 of the 69 Love Songs with me in otherwise silence, while we both sit on the ground and look at it while we shift the positions of our legs because they’re getting sore from sitting in one position for that long of a time (it is a lot of songs.), let me know. I don’t want to talk before or after.
[OVERDESCRIPTION OF CAR WASH WITH STATIC AND STRAIGHT POSTURE, HANDS ON WHEEL, 10 and 2, SMELL OF THE INSIDE OF THE CAR BUT WITH AN ADDED SOMETHING, PRESSURE FROM THE WATER, ANXIETY BUILDS-HANDS ON THIGHS, CHEWING GUM]
i almost just signed up for an account on theatlantic.com so i could comment on a pretty articulate rich dude who talked about his childrens' schools being free of "ghetto people," but otherwise being very racially mixed.
but all would have said was, "Dude, 'ghetto people?' For real?" and then maybe double commented with, "Go fuck yourself, bro." and then that would have been a really dumb thing.