Thursday, November 10, 2005

i have plans.

in the winter i want to have a party. i want to have a theme and i want to have awesome invitations and i want to have a soundtrack and i want to dress up for it. i don't know if i should be abigal foldger or squeaky.

in the spring i want to go to the annual convention for geeks i don't care where it is i want to go and i want to get drunk in the morning and then go to lectures where accomplished researchers tear each other to shreds before lunch. last year i was so drunk i somehow ripped the hems out of my pants and nam helped me staple them together. i miss you nam.

in the summer i want to drive west just west. then later i'll decide if i want to turn right or left and i want to end up somewhere nobody has ever been before because it's so shitty why would anybody go there and i will be the glamorous outsider in some dry crusty town and they will have a parade for me and i will stay in the shittiest motel ever like one of the ones with magic fingers and come stains all over the sheets.

in one year i want to defend my thesis and it will be so amazing that i won't even have any corrections and it will go straight to publication and i won't even have to do a rewrite and i will become a famous psychometrician even before i have my doctorate.

in five years i want to write a book and it will be so good publishers will be scrambling all over each other dying to publish it but i'm going to publish it myself so it doesn't end up with any gay as hell cover art and i'm not going to sell it at borders and then borders will go out of business and all the borders in the world will be turned into no kill animal shelters staffed by foster kids that will learn what love is by frolicking around with puppies all day long.

in ten years i want to design a house and i want to build it in las vegas so i can fly my dad out there to see all the big fights and maybe if he wants too i'll encourage him to become a boxing promotor and he will grow old smoking cigars and hanging out with bobby hitz and don king.

in twenty years i want to open a restaurant and i want to call it pie rarities and i want to make pear pies and grape pies and you know like rare pies. i want to have it in paris though so everyone will be able to smoke in there and i am going to smoke while i make pies maybe i will even make a super special pie and people will be like 'oh la la je dois sais qu'est dans la tarte?' and i will be like 'cigarettes.'

in forty years i want to be dead and i want to die laughing i want to die because i'm laughing i want to laugh so hard i actually die. that would probably be the best feeling in the universe. to die laughing.
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