Comments | unburiable: The lilac garden.

unburiable

The lilac garden.

Jan 06, 2003 19:14

So the idea became something more than just an idea once two or three people had thoroughly talked it over, but the base elements comprising the thing that happened was Frederick finding a wallet by the fountains in Hendrick Park ( Read more... )

Comments 16

destined to the underground classroom. foreignpetals January 7 2003, 11:18:52 UTC

Great story, Kyle. I had the chance to read it in between my 3 o'clock with Mira Sorvino and some up and coming comedian by the name of Dana Gould at 4. I sent a memo around the office stating this article's importance. My secretary, Carly, was the first to respond saying "good work" and "Who wrote this?."

Ofcourse I told her to fuck off.

But then outloud I said an old friend from the studio times.

Carly insists I take a nap after my facial mask. I've got an important dinner to go to with Jack Black and Bob Odenkerk tonight to renegotiate their HBO contracts. I'll swing by the pad a little later with a bottle of Domain de Chevalier Blanc 1996 and congratulate you in person. I better run, I'm late for my thumbs up kyle.

Louis.

Derek shrugs off taking things seriously; that's why. foreignpetals January 7 2003, 13:46:31 UTC

It was good, I guess, but that whole thing makes me look like kind of a jerk in some ways, don't you think? I think i anyone would appreciate just how much time, energy and money I put into throwing parties for people who are going to end up too drunk to remember them anyway, one or two of you might be able to understand where I'm coming from. And I don't mean battleships off the coast of dead nations, either. That party was especially taxing on me, being that our theme was having to do largely with being out-of-hand rich and out of touch; it took more money than I myself can afford to pay for the champagnes alone. If not for a few strokes of good luck and some secretive violence against unsuspecting townsfolk we would have had to feign a few things, which as you know already, just isn't my thing ( ... )

miss_ladybug January 9 2003, 06:19:39 UTC

Hey there. Remember me?

I have two new friends. Is this your doing?

Cordially,

Miss Anti-social and baby too!

Playing guitar with picks stolen from George Harrison's grave. unburiable January 15 2003, 04:01:34 UTC

One can never have one too many friends, my dear. It's just one of those things that got its own chapter in the Bible; the one right after when that guy got nailed to a cross for being an asshole.

Re: Playing guitar with picks stolen from George Harrison's grave. miss_ladybug January 16 2003, 13:42:11 UTC

Hey speaking of assholes, did you get my email or what?

And you're wrong my dear! One can have too many friends.

Lots of love,

The Bitter Slut.

Receipts of the damned. unburiable January 17 2003, 11:28:25 UTC

Yes, I did receive your e-mail. I should have a proper response to you within the hour. David 'Record Producer / Hypnotist' Torres gave me some food and I'm going to prepare some of it for a lite lunch. I wish I were rich.

Thread 5

Hey there, stop it! miss_ladybug January 10 2003, 13:18:26 UTC

Quit fuckin' with my bio. I sound retarded.

anonymous January 12 2003, 02:44:27 UTC

I love you.

Scores of people have the same hang-up. anonymous January 12 2003, 23:11:55 UTC

It isn't really new to me anymore, but I still think I should to toss a few smiles or nods your way and probably even say Hello. It strikes me, what with your anonymity and all, that you're probably not famous. Which means you're not exactly on my top priorities list. But then again, just how many people get to be? This is a fast world, baby, and I can only hold so many hands before I'm off to the next town. Get a name for yourself and call me when my secretary Belinda recognizes you from the papers and the television. Or the big silver.

Gotta jet.
Neil Garriscond.

magniloquent perhaps, and certainly sententious, but a bit allusive townmoron January 13 2003, 06:30:48 UTC

you think i'm fucking impressed by your grandiloquence? nothing could be further from the truth that's stamped across the acknowledgement page of your auto-fucking-biography - with ghost writing credits to none other than yours truly. nothing a little name dropping couldn't clear up... oh wait, more like name droppings, falling from your puckered mouth. i think we all know who's to blame for this. next time you want to write a fucking "story" leave me way the hell out of it.

Lincoln G. Haversmeyer

Manifesto. townmoron January 24 2003, 23:45:38 UTC

I. Will break. Your. Fucking legs.