You stick to the walls, you're covered in glue, init?

[boxedrobot]

Terminal anguish. Some days it’s a fish market in my life: I have to avoid the stalls amid all the gutting and stench. It gets on my suit, ruins my tie, and sticks in the soles of my shoes like plastering over some cheap bed-sit wall. The telephone handset is a lethal weapon only when attacking store mannequins, who else is going to succumb to a

Comments

[bradx]

i'm from l.a. and i've used so many false accents that i finally now feel part of the human race. not that i think that's a virtue, mind you, but what can-U-say? or conversely, what can-oooh-say? (no relation to any offspring of the dreaded sadam, thankee very much). and no, i'm not on drugs, though someone who plays a doctor on t.v. might think so. which leads me to reflect that the important part of being an alien is that it gives one the inalienable right to be alienated wherever and whenever one is not specifically 'at home': which i remind you, dear person, according to emily post, is society's best form of invitation. that is all.

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[boxedrobot]

With my head tucked under my arms, I'm at home. I'm hoping on my new alien card there's a tracking chip. I really want them to know where I go, because I imagine then someone else will be feeling as bored as I am. I'll have a soul mate.

[bradx]

phantasies and dreams are wonderful, admirable things, dear person, and one cannot but admire your youthful optimism. that said, however, if i were you, i'd abandon all hope ye who enter here.