"We're on to Cincinnati."
I forgot where I left off. Where one day begins, and others end. Weeks and months blur thanks to the endless stream of YouTube playlists and official soundtracks. I'm in full Belichick mode. I’m currently listening to Bjork’s Hyperballad while writing this because I haven’t the faintest idea what to write about.
It was a weekend. Two weekends since eclipsing the 400 mark. Nothing’s changed.
The glitz and glamour of milestones aren't a big thing for me. First, it was a brazenly narcissistic sheet cake, then a significantly smaller cake-like object. I was working on my birthday, so I coincidentally already ate cake earlier in the day when 300 came across my mitts.
Four hundred? A jig. Another story. And home 15 minutes after bar close.
Now I’m listening to the Annihilation OST. Never saw the movie. But it’s got his crazy reverberation as Blade Runner 2049 has. Blade Runner 2049, still need to finish that. Who has 2 hours and 45 minutes to look at bleak surroundings and dilapidated buildings? I’d just as well drive to Detroit to get the same feeling.
Yes, picking on Detroit is low hanging fruit. But I also had to park in a muddy ditch two blocks away from its billion-dollar arena last year in the arena-owned parking lot. Pluses and minuses abound.
Speaking of downtown Detroit, listening to U2 Zoo TV tour medley now. A pump up for a Friday afternoon.
414: Illinois
Just bend it.
415: The Nose Glows
I guess it’s the female version of Pinocchio, if you’re nose is shiny enough you’re probably on coke or lying because have a fake ID. Maybe a little bit of both.
416: Edna Too Tall Jones
You’re already 6 feet tall. Find a better ‘someone else’s ID.’ Girls stop growing at what, 14? Also, don’t grab me or at my pockets. I already have enough time dirtying my own clothes I don’t need your nasty hands on me.
417: The Terminator
“I’ll be back,” she said. She didn’t.
418: I got it From My Momma
The problem is, I couldn’t tell which was which. Great news for the mom, I guess, but those 20 years took a rough turn for the daughter. Is there a makeup that causes Progeria?
419: August Rush
One of my favorite questions used to be “What’s your ZIP code?” It’s now, “How old are you?” because it’s way more effective.
Almost too effective.
“How old are you?”
Her responses: 21, 24, 24, 24, 24, 24, 24, 24, 24, 2...3, 23.
“But my birthday is August 8, 1994!”
“Is it August yet?
Again, I’d be thrilled if a girl liked 24 as much as I do, but something tells me we weren’t having a back-and-forth about Jack Bauer.
420: Birthday Blues
“Do you have room for 12?”
“I do, but you don’t have 12. You have 11. This one’s fake.”
421: Florida Man
Haven’t caught a fake Florida in a while. They’re still shitty.
422: Too Short
423: The Whole Nine Yards
I can’t even go into enough detail on why this was bad. The primary reason was her fake maker must have accidentally used the heighten cursor instead of the aspect ratio corner cursor in the copy-and-paste part of the process. Her round face became Malibu Barbie-shaped.
Like when you go to some mountain or Niagara falls and roll a penny, but only to see what Abe Lincoln's face looks like.
Secondly, the good ol’ Facebook test was two years off her ID the OTHER WAY. Two years older on Facebook than her ID, which was 2 years older than her actual age.
“But it will cost me $40 to replace.”
I know she was trying to mean the DMV, but either way she got took good.
Tertiary reasoning led her down a weird path of why her age was different. It was a mixture of stalking and identity theft and online shopping.
Yeah, me either.
