I'd again like to take this moment to quote the lyrics to my new favorite song.
"Who says you can't go home?"
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 06, 2007
Try the Veal
Behold, my dear readers, the most amazing calf you shall ever see. Marvel at its definition. Gaze upon its subtle tan. Lose yourself in its tangle of hair. Be overwhelmed by the knowledge that it's only half of a dynamic duo of exquisite calves. Play your cards right, and you could admire both at your leisure.
Many will enter; few will win. Offer is open to Minnesota residents only. Please allow twelve days for delivery.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Modeling the Latest Fall Fashions from Paree
Dear Homeless People,
Although I don't believe in you [much like foolish people don't believe in Santa Claus], I feel the need to compose a letter to you. I understand that life gave you lemons, and you misplaced your juicer. That doesn't mean you have to neglect your social graces entirely. Let's go over a couple ground rules regarding your future interactions with me. I'll be the Henry Higgins to your Eliza Doolittle, so that I, too, can grow accustomed to your face.
God help you if you attempt to get my attention by shaking your damned cup of coins. I don't respond to the worthless senior citizens who do the same thing while sitting in front of a slot machine surrounded by a cloud of smoke, and I'm certainly not going to respond to you.
If you want my money, entertain me. Breakdance in the subway station. Do some street magic. Accompany yourself on the ten-gallon plastic pickle tub. If I have to jump through hoops at my job to get paid, so do you.
Unfortunately, you will never be able to read this letter, as you would need both a computer and basic literacy skills. I can only assume you lack both. Maybe I can address these issues with you during the group sleepovers you are so fond of having outside the Coop. I apologize if my presence interrupts your pillow fights, ghost stories and intense games of "Truth or Dare."
In whatever manner this letter reaches you, I hope you take its content to heart. It will make the city a better place for all. Well . . . except for you . . . you'll still be homeless.
Sincerely,
Justin
P.S. Regarding your signs, where do you get all the fabulous cardboard and markers used in their creation? I need to make some for Twins games, and poster board and Sharpies just aren't cutting the mustard.
Although I don't believe in you [much like foolish people don't believe in Santa Claus], I feel the need to compose a letter to you. I understand that life gave you lemons, and you misplaced your juicer. That doesn't mean you have to neglect your social graces entirely. Let's go over a couple ground rules regarding your future interactions with me. I'll be the Henry Higgins to your Eliza Doolittle, so that I, too, can grow accustomed to your face.
God help you if you attempt to get my attention by shaking your damned cup of coins. I don't respond to the worthless senior citizens who do the same thing while sitting in front of a slot machine surrounded by a cloud of smoke, and I'm certainly not going to respond to you.
If you want my money, entertain me. Breakdance in the subway station. Do some street magic. Accompany yourself on the ten-gallon plastic pickle tub. If I have to jump through hoops at my job to get paid, so do you.
Unfortunately, you will never be able to read this letter, as you would need both a computer and basic literacy skills. I can only assume you lack both. Maybe I can address these issues with you during the group sleepovers you are so fond of having outside the Coop. I apologize if my presence interrupts your pillow fights, ghost stories and intense games of "Truth or Dare."
In whatever manner this letter reaches you, I hope you take its content to heart. It will make the city a better place for all. Well . . . except for you . . . you'll still be homeless.
Sincerely,
Justin
P.S. Regarding your signs, where do you get all the fabulous cardboard and markers used in their creation? I need to make some for Twins games, and poster board and Sharpies just aren't cutting the mustard.
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