Tonight I went to Midas and had a pitcher of beer and a serving dish full of dry Duo Balls. I studied the Korean that I learned long ago and on which I have since become hazy. I can now tell you "I am not Duo Balls, Friend." It comes up more often that you think.
What's the real shit that's been on my mind? It's this far-to-late realization: there is a huge difference between being liked and being respected. I have always gravitated towards being liked because it offers me an instant gratification. Get some laughs, get some attention, and BAM! I'm liked. Feels good. Fast forward, say, an hour. All of a sudden I've used up all that bullshit I talk and I'm left being the one who won't shut up about insignificant things. Now change my audience to 10 year olds. Things get messy.
Tonight a man bought me a deep fried pancake smothered in sesame seeds because he had a hunch I might be American. He was right. He also seemed to know that I was hungry. And while those oily snacks are far from what I ever crave, he saves me $2 and hooked me up. Thanks, dude.
There are sweet potatoes boiling in my kitchen as we speak. As I speak. As I type. Did you know sweet potatoes are the best food ever? Neither did I. Nor do I agree with that. They're not. But they're damn good.
I also had wine.
If any of you have any used clothes to spare, I would love to have them. I'm not budgeted for shopping sprees and I'm tired of all the clothes I have.
That's really all I care to share right now. Here are some helpful hints to get you through your life:
-Listen to Jónsi.
-Try the Insanity workout.
-Avoid YouTube.
-Don't sleep in.
-Buy one lottery ticket. Only one.
-Make up a fake name for yourself.
-Get a scar.
-Befriend Buddy Pross.
-Send me clothes.
In Closing...
-LS^2
The duck is dead.
I don't know a single one of these kids.
I'm in love with Meg Foster,
and she's in love with me, too.
My niece has a mustache.
Proud Uncle here.
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