…followed by a series of full body shots taken in what looks to be a public restroom. My friend’s Spanish boyfriend decoded the messages for me:
“pero dalacasualidad ketodabia notekiero y amor delejos es amor dependejos”
But coincidentally I still don’t love you and long distance relationships are foolish.
“no porke boi andar ocupada”
Why would I be busy?
Fascinating, and while I still don’t know what it all means or why she’s contacting me, I really hope it means I’m somebody’s standard fake number!
…he says things to you like, “I think it’s really funny that we’re eating fiddlehead ferns, a sustainable diet staple, with corn, a monocultural crop.”
In related news, I just took a muscle relaxer and am drinking wine out of a tumbler. And in case you’re wondering, fiddlehead ferns look really cool but taste really gross.
One more thing: my boyfriend is awesome.
Found perusing the Bold Italic back stories: Furry Logic, an article on dog owner and non-owner etiquette. Needless to say, I’m more than a little obsessed with my dog, Mary Cherry (note: I accidentally typed “god” instead of “dog” just now, which I think is poetic). Here are the dog owner etiquette rules I feel comfortable breaking.
I dote on her in public. At six pounds and 12-years-old, Mary frequently gets exhausted on long walks. I will pick her up to carry her, which brings her very close to my face, and when she sticks her nose on my cheek, it reminds me of how she is such a sweet little pita pocket stuffed with sunshine! I absolutely have to kiss her fuzzy ears a million times and tell her how special she is or my heart will explode!!! People who don’t have extraordinarily precious dogs don’t understand this, but it is possible to become physically ill if you don’t smoosh your dog’s face into your face constantly.
I let her go crazy at the park. Because she’s so small, I really don’t see the harm in her running over a picnic blanket. She doesn’t bark unless you step on her, she doesn’t intimidate or even really excite other dogs, and she’s missing most her teeth so even if she did bite, it would probably feel like a tickle. Not to mention, literally everyone coos and smiles affectionately at her (see above: pita pocket). She’s basically every San Franciscan’s ideal apartment pet – she cuddles like a cat, but she loves you like a dog. Also, she’s as low-maintenance as a hamster.
I don’t always pick up her poop, but hear me out: The freeway runs over my block, which creates an outdoor ceiling ideal for hobo camping. Some of them smoke a lot of crack, and crack does weird things to your bowels that I don’t like. I can’t even begin to count the number of times one of them has leveraged themselves with my car to take a huge, grayish crack poo all over the sidewalk in front of my building’s stairs. It really bums me out. So sometimes when I’m in a super bad mood about it, I won’t pick up Mary’s poops on their part of the sidewalk. Take that, disenfranchised homeless community!