Ash, I liked you the first time I heard your suburban steez, when you were on my television and your name was John Brown. One of you in the universe is plenty so umm, please see yourself out. It's not fresh and/or irreverent cuz you know I seen a hundred you's at the Short Stop. You are an archetype within every major metropolitan area, including this one. There's 2 or 3 of you whenever I walk down Fairfax, and at least 6 of you whenever I go out to an establishment where alcoholic beverages are served. You normally go out with your boys on Friday, but for some reason you're there on a Tuesday and you come up to me when I'm at the bar and look at my frame and I tell you I have a boyfriend even though I really do not just so you will please stop. (Oh, also, I don't have a cell phone. And ummm...I'm just visiting from out of town). You're so psyched on your pants & shoes & bachelor's degree & smirk. Good job buddy, you found Undefeated and you know all the words to "Tried By Twelve."
Fall back, Morrisville. You know what, I loved college too--mostly cuz you weren't there with me.
For some reason I find this human next-levels-of-next-level annoying, like he personally borrowed my Portishead at Roseland vinyl and never returned it.
And Steve Rifkind, you should be ashamed of yourself, sir.
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1 comment:
haaaaa, yessss Lo. Fuck this faker.
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