A glamorous woman, a wealthy New Yorker with a haircut that would look absurd on anyone less confident, in a brown sundress, push-up bra in full effect, pushes through the revolving door, and from the information desk, where I sit at the back, I watch as she strides the length of the store toward me to ask, in a European accent I can't quite place
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Whoa, how is your life and yourself? It's been a long time since I've had any interaction with you.
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My life is kind of stupid, as you can see. Hopefully existence will pick up soon, though. How are you?
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yes. of course.
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i now fear for my future
-fellow barnard
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what does "temp" job mean? no, i'm not planning on working there for the rest of my life, but it's pretty fucking presumptuous to assume that because it's a store i somehow got stuck there, or failed, rather than that i chose to be there because it was an envirnoment that i enjoyed, and wanted to be in for a while. i realize this was a post making fun, but don't consider that i actually have an interest in the, you know, non-potty training related books, or all the illustrators i've met, i know you're too busy judging.
welcome to the flower garden, tell doris i say what's up.
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the only reason i fear for your future is because you are clearly a dickhead who spells "because" as "coz."
-a nonfellow barnard dickhead
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i'm going to a zombie walk on monday. so excited!!!
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they're trying to break the world record for the most undead in one place.
my plan is to go, be zombielike, take pictures of zombie people and then come home to watch 'shaun of the dead' a million times.
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