My Stupid Friend Jess

She’s Cool Actually.

This page is an ongoing dialogue between my friend Jess and I,  not just a stupid picture I took of her in New Orleans.

104 thoughts on “My Stupid Friend Jess

  1. Pingback: The Paris Promise. | Fibromy-Awesome

  2. One time, Mary asked me what type of cuisine is special to Saint Louis. I was stumped. Never before had I considered what I ate and what I grew up eating to be special and uniquely Mid-Western. Completely dumb founded, I said Italian. For real. She looked at me like I was an idiot and I defended myself by saying how there is this neighborhood called “The Hill” and actual Italianos live there! Their restaurants are to die. Like, way better than Olive Garden.

    A few months later, I was sitting in a Bandana’s Bar-b-que “Smell that Smoke” and it hit me: This is what she was talking about. Freaking BBQ! Oh, yeah. My last meal on Earth would be a whole day of eating all my favorite meals e.g. Fries, duh, pizza, duh, ice cream, soda, cheeseburgers, duh, duh, duh, shrimp!

    Aside: in New Orleans visiting Mary I wanted to eat only New Orleans cuisine i.e. Shrimp! First meal: Shrimp Po’ Boy with fried green tomatos and hot sauce (fucking A-right,) second meal: shrimp and scallop dinner plate (bomb,) third meal: crawfish (weird how black goo runs down your arm, but delish,) forth meal: crab cakes with poached eggs (yum, I’m also running out of food describer words) fifth meal: this is where the story lies…

    Both me and Mary were sick and tired of crestation. Like, grossed out, so we decided to get pizza! On the walk to the pizzaria we noticed a better looking Mexican joint next door. Delima. We chose Mexican and what else? Shrimp tacos.

    OK, back to the main story: as part of my last day of eating on Earth the grand finale or maybe not would be pulled pork with sweet and spicy BBQ sauce, potato salad, baked beans, and roasted corn-on-the-cob (for nutrition, duh.) And that there, Mary is my proper answer to Mid-Western cuisine.

    (I must say I wasn’t totally off mark when I said Italian for Saint Louis cuisine. We here like to eat this one dish called Moscacholi– especially at weddings–which is penne pasta in red sauce with cheese on top baked. I have a memory eating this for lunch at a retarded day camp where I voluntered. Dude, never serve moscacholi for retarded kids at day camp.)

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  3. Whoa, whoa, whoa, I must intergect!

    Once, a few years back while hanging out at my then douch bag boyfriends restaurant (I dumped him because he dumped me for someone else! That really showed him!) I met this man who lived in the loft above. We started talking as most people do when they sit at a bar alone. He was black.

    Well, he was really into The Power of Now, the same book Mary now calls her gospel. He told me about the teachings and how it transformed his life. He said how he used to drink too much and sleep with too many women (I made that up.) And then, BAM!! He read The Power of Now and everything changed.

    As I am interested in most things of zero value, like Brad Pitts hair, I was full on convinced that i had found the secret to life and I would no longer have to hang out at my douch bag boyfriends place of employment talking to strangers for I will have found a reason to live (I made that up. Let’s just say I was listening and head nodding.)

    After his whole shpeal, I actually thought what he was saying had some value, then BAM! Here was the kicker: he told me he lived so much in the present that he didn’t cry or feel sad or grief when his mom died. He had power over everything.

    I think this is the crux of The Power of Now: not processing human emotion. This man was so into the present that he missed out on a real human experience: feeling the loss of a loved one. I don’t think it matters how in the present you are, you still need to recognize how you feel.

    Like in Seinfeld and the “serenity now,” I am 100% certain that this man who ignored his feelings about his mother’s death will or has already had a serious breakdown. No matter how connected you are to now, I think it is also important to acknowlage and process your feelings.

    The Power of Now has some good points to take away and incorporate into your life, but I think you have to respect yourself and your human fallibility. Just don’t get so stuck in the present that you ignore your human emotions. It is necessary to feel what your body natuarally wants you to feel. Separate yor feelings from your identity all you want. Don’t let them define who you are, but don’t also let them go unfelt.

    And P.S. I used to play a lot of Barbies as a kid, like a lot, and last night while pondering Tom Brady and Gisele Bunchen, I realized that I am still playing Barbies just not with Barbies.

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    • Number one. Your friend totally blew it. It’s important to distinguish the essence of who you are from your feelings, but you can’t just go around NOT FEELINGS THINGS. That shit cray. And yeah, if your mom dies, you need to feel it. Your friend saying that he had power over everything was his ego disguising itself as ‘getting it.’ Not feeling grief is not living in the present. In fact it’s the opposite. Your friend was living in denial. The more ‘Power of Now’ way to go about it, is to allow yourself to feel sad, feel the loss. And also to accept that life is temporary and that his mom is participated in a process that has been part of the deal all along. The way to not go about it is to say, I could have done something to prevent it, Or I can’t go on without her, or Now that something bad has happened to me, I’m allowed to do bad things. In other words Jess, YOUR FRIEND BLEW IT.

      Also, The Power of Now is not my new bible. It’s one of many books I’m finding that are pointing me to the direction of consciousness. Now I’m reading The Seat of the Soul by Gary Zukav. It’s another goodie. Also I’m reading Strong Motion by Johnathan Franzen. Have you read Freedom yet? Dude, you must. PEACE.

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      • Whoa, whoa, whoa, this guy i wrote about in my post was not my friend. He was just some dude I spoke to once! Stop saying he is my friend!!!

        And yeah, The Power of Now doesn’t say to abandon feelings, I just think within certain interpretations, that message could get lost.

        Serentity now!!

        You know what book taught me a lot about the mind and body connection? Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein. Its about a human, Valentine Michael Smith, who was raised on Mars then brought back to Earth. Read that!! “I’m only and egg.”

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    • You spelled interject wrong! Get it together Jess. You are soooo incredibly right about playing barbies. Also, do you dream about your wedding? I do. A lot. In a gross way. I even buy bride magazines to look for dress ideas. I’ve been doing that for like a year now, and it wasn’t until my last layover in the airport that I bought Modern Bride magazine and the cashier asked when I was getting married. “Oh, uh, I’m not….I’m just…” “INSANE?!” She didn’t say that, but you could see it in her eyes. She’s right I guess. I should stop. It’s just so much fun being a girl. I feel sorry for boys.

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  5. At the office, I have successfully memorized everyones foot step sounds. Like the owner, he does a shuffle, so whenever I hear that I know I should look busy.

    Then, there’s Stampee. She walks with such aggressivness that her foot steps make the floor rumble. I nic-named her Stampee from that episode of The Simpsons where Bart wins the elephant and names him Stampee.

    When I walk I try not to stamp because I don’t want a nic-name. And I try not to shuffle because that sounds silly in pumps and I want to be respected by my collegues. (You know that matters) so that is probably why I walk without moving my arms trying to make as little noise as possible.

    I remember being in adolecence and every sound my parents made used to make be angry. I hated how my dad’s fork would scrape his teeth when we ate. And my mom would always lick her lips in the car. My insides would be on fire.

    And color me jealous for those air tight canisters. And whistling without vibrato is for the amateur.

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    • Hey Jess! My legs are on fire and it’s 5 in the morning and I was doing what I usually do in this position, scanning facebook and making note of how ridiculous people are and then trying to find some fresh wedding photos, honeymoon photos, or baby photos that I have yet to look through. There were no fresh ones. Then I was like WAIT, what about Jess? What is that whore up to? And now here I found you, just like I imagined I would. Still typing away on this page. You’re the best friend ever Jess. (Hugs computer screen uncomfortably)

      So, I’m an aunt for the second time. Boo yah kuh shaw! This means I get to buy cute shit, spoil the hell out of her, and not have to worry about the consequences or her behaving badly, because she’s somebody else’s kid. But even so, I’ll teach her good things and make sure she knows the ways of the world. Mostly I just pray she doesn’t have fibromyalgia. But if she does, I’ll be there for her and we’ll compare pill effectiveness together.

      Jess, we’re getting old. Do you plan on reproducing? Because I do, and technically our biological clocks are ticking faster and faster and faster. Sometimes at night I hear my own ovaries ticking. It’s winding down Jess. We need to begin soon. But judging from this page, I’m not so sure we’re ready to be mothers. Gabe was like “I really want to have a kid before I’m 30″ and I kindof agreed with him but then I was like, wait, look what we’re doing. We’re stoned and playing monopoly with friends with poor jugdment. We can’t have a kid yet. Then we sold all our properties and went bankrupt.

      I’d like to come to St. Louis and visit you. I’ve never been to Louie. (Remember, that was the nickname we gave it to say to people from California who don’t think St. Louis is cool) But you need to get a couch. Or air mattress. Let me know when the deed is done. PEACE.

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      • It’s like, “Of course I want kids.” Then it’s like, “I want to be a business woman! Screw kids!” And finally, “Shit, I’m gonna need those fuckers when I’m old, lonely, and desperate for company.”

        I don’t know when it will happen. Maybe it’s happening right now and I just don’t know yet, or maybe it will never happen, who knows?

        I see on Facebook EVERYONE with a ute is renting it out. And my older co-workers are suggesting I get started. I’ve just never been driven by babies. I’ve always had different objectives with my life.

        Honestrly, I never wanted kids until I met you. Your enthusiasm and truthfulness was something I admired. I never before had let myself want something that seemed so cliche.

        I hope I can have kids, but if I can’t I will have to deal with that as it comes. The plus side of barrenness is mo money! Hello lake house on Lake Como like George Clooney!

        I’m not one of those girls that is driven by marriage and kids. No way. Those things aren’t on my To Do list. If it happenes, it happens. If not, maybe I could be a cool step mom or an awesome Aunt that drinks too much.

        Now, is not the time for kids, but I don’t think we can decide when the right time will be. The universe has got that one.

        Here’s to drugs, adventure, and freedom. Live it up before those bastards take it away from us.

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  6. Hey Mary!

    Come crash on my parent’s couch! Or Derek’s couch. I don’t have a couch. Maybe I shouldn’t impose on other people’s couches.

    Leap Day, bitches!! Let’s get naked!

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  7. Oh, and I hear Becks is in an underwear commercial for H & M. Maybe that will erase from my mind Madonna’s push ups. Hopefully.

    And who directed the Super Bowl because there needed to be way more cut aways to Gisele. Am I right or am I right?

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    • You’re right you’re right. You’re always right. GOD. Dude I think that Frasier is the perfect show to watch before bed. Or The Golden Girls if you want something sassier. I’m reading Eat Pray Love right now. It makes me want to travel again. But I am poor, and also sick. So I get to read this book, dream about my old life, and take pills. Life is crazy dude. CRAZY.

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      • Haha. I like to watch The Office before bed. You know what movie is coming back to the iMax? Titanic!

        Derek is watching Scrubs. He likes to watch a series all the way through for a couple of months. And during that time he refers to the characters as his friends. So right now, when I ask him if he is playing Final Fantasy 13 Part 2 he will say, “No, I’m cleaning with my friends,” meaning he’s cleaning with an episode of Scrubs on the TV.

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  8. I’ve been in such a shit mood lately: the morning starts sad, the afternoon gets mean, the dusk is happy, and finally the night is sad because of how mean I was in the afternoon.

    Finally, I feel more like myself, but it was terrible there for a few weeks. Like, I even internet spied on my boyfriend! That took a minute to smooth over.

    So now here we are. Another monday. How uncomfotable is everyone after watching Madonna perform feats of strenghth on national television? Uncomfortable, right? Do I ever want to see Madonna slowly do one legged wheel barrel push ups ever again? Probably.

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  9. I wrote another poem:

    “Hide the Bullets from Myself”

    Every thing is dead
    It’s dark as fuck
    Will I make it to Spring before I shoot myself in the head
    Winters suck

    Thank you.

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    • Jess, this was really powerful. Umm, call me. Like soon. If you actually died and this was the last poem you wrote, it’d be sad. And it would taint the blog. COME ON MAN. Remember that time in France I told you all that if I died I wanted the song “The Next Episode” to play while they were walking my casket down the aisle? We laughed, but then you all realized that I could actually die while over there, and you all would HAVE to honor my last wishes, in which case, I would be dead in a casket being walked down an aisle with Snoop Dogg blaring in a church. Yeah, that could have happened. Call me.

      P.S. Did you watch the PUPPY BOWL?!

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  10. Every morning (except weekends, duh: weekends = soda) I drink 20 oz of water and I eat a banana. Some mornings, I will want to drink a hot chocolate or a decaf mocha latte. Then, a delima meets me: drink the hot beverage first and lose out on early morning hydration, or drink the water first and lose out on, umm nothing?

    Usually, I will drink the hot chocolate first. But on good days, like this morning, I will drink all the water, then, eat the fruit and finally drink the hot beverage.

    Today, my mom bought me a decaf Venti mocha latte. That’s right–Venti–just like the Olsen twins. I’ve never had a Venti sized latte before today. Now, I can say I have lived.

    Another wild Tuesday.

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  11. It’s funny you mentioned Synchronicity because oddly enough, yesterday before you published your dancing post, I reTweeted a Tweet about how Ellen’s seductive dancing is at the top of the Things That Kill Boners List!

    We must be cycling together.

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  12. Have you ever tried to Tweet something, but then, the darned Twitter machine froze while it was still trying to publish your Tweet? And then, all you want to do is Tweet about how your Twitter machine is frozen!! But you can’t! Because it’s still trying to publish your other Tweet about Sheryl Crow.

    Ugh…this just happened to me

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  13. I’m doin it. I’m gonna talk about the weather:

    What is with this unseasonably warm weather? On the one hand, I love it because I can wear my winter coat unbuttoned (by the way, I have yet to button my coat this winter) and I can take off my coat before sitting in the car. Ew, I hate coat hair: that gross feeling you get at the nape of your neck when your hair is all knotted and greasy from that darned coat (I just blew my load from the juxtiposition of a faux-swear word and a regular word), which let us get real, car coat sitting causes coat hair–the main reason why i hate car coat sitting; the secondairy reason being excessive sweating in the under arms, and the thirdairy reason being the whole mind-fight I have with myself for at least an hour in which I try to convince myself that actually, taking off my seat belt to remove my coat will not be that bad.

    On the otherhand, this weather is causing allergies. I need a solid four months of frost to tame the wild midwestern pollen and mold. Every day this week has been a sneeze fest. But now that I have properly thought about car coat sitting, I say scew it, bring on the allergies.

    Life is good.

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  14. Hahahahaha! Dead Christmas Trees! That could be a horror film. Aside (not the right word but drumroll-to-build-up-suspence-for-my-catch-phrase-whatever): You know how on Facebook people put film as one of their interests. What does that mean? Does it mean they like to watch movies? Because if that is what they mean, then they shouldn’t even bother writing that because EVERYONE likes movies. Facebook even has a section, after interests, called MOVIES where you type in what movies you like. Christmas.

    So if they don’t mean they like to watch movies, then what does it mean to have an interest in film? Does it mean they enjoy watching Criterion Collection and borrowing opinions and ideas from the director’s cut. Because if that is what they mean, then they shouldn’t even bother writing that because EVERYONE likes stealling opinions from the director’s cut. You know what my interests are on Facebook? It’s blank. I never filled it out, but if I did, it would be swimming, which is appropriate because not everyone is interested in swimming, and I’m not talking about race swimming with proper strokes; I’m talken about leisure swimming with a diving board or at least goggles and something heavy.

    I digress. The other day Carolyn took down the Christmas wreaths at work. The wreath–talk about a classy holiday decoration especially when its accompanied by the candels in the windows. Think about someone’s internal dialog about Christmas decor: “OK Todd, what will my Christmas decorations say about me? I can’t go with mult-colored lights–they will think I’m poor. But the all-white lights are a hassle and let’s face it, I don’t really give a sh–, so let’s do wreaths with candles. They are just as classy as the all-white lights, but way easier so I’ll have more time to pursue my interests in film.”

    Ray is my cousin Shelia’s friend. He makes the best cheesecake.

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  15. Get this: if your SIMS character pees himself, your character has to clean it up with a push broom. Yeah, even if you pissed yourself in the grass, same, push broom. I don’t get it. Why not a mop? Or if the programmers were dead set on the push broom, then they should at least throw down some saw dust first. Am I right or am I right?

    Pet SIMS was a Christmas gift, BOOM. I thought it would be fun to make a tramp dog or set up a make-up factory that tests lip balm on animals. The possibilities are endless when you throw pets in the mix.

    First, I started the game by building my own house. Obviously, the island property with a view was my first choice. Too bad I spent all my money on walls and windows. When it came time to buy a stove and a toilette, I had to reset the game. This made me think I should have asked for CAD instead, to bad it costs like 1000 dollars. That is what Community Colleges are for. You can enroll in a 100 dollar course and use their software for free. Am I right or am I right?

    I think I am messed up.

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  16. Christmas was a bonanza. My favorite dessert was Ray’s turtle cheesecake. My favorite present was earrings. My brother really liked his A Frames. And nobody died. Phew.

    Wait…Mary, did anyone die? Crap, I hope no one died.

    Today, I wear my hair in a ponytail. It pulls tight the skin on my face so I look more youthful. And it nicely displays my new earrings.

    Mary, are you a listen to Christmas music until the New Year kind of gal, or a no Christmas music after Christmas type? My mom hates Christmas stuff after Christmas. Our house decorations are already back in their boxes is the basement. I on the otherhand like expired Christmas joy. I do not see a problem with Christmas lights until February.

    Today is a good day. There is a bottle of sparkling cider in the fridge at work.

    Cheers!

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    • dude, who’s Ray? And nobody died, yet. I like how we have to clarify that type of shit because untimely and sudden deaths are so frequent in the Gelpi crew.

      And seriously, like what if someone had died. And here I am telling you on the comments part of this page that, yeah, someone died. It was my brother. He fell off the roof. Haha.

      I’m a total listen to christmas music starting thanksgiving day and stretch it out as long as possible. You know what is so depressing? Dead christmas trees on the side of the road. It’s like screw you you stupid tree! We don’t need you anymore!! They’re just so lifeless and sad. It always depressed me. And UN-decorating the tree? It doesn’t GET ANY SADDER!

      One time when we lived in Colorado, we left our Christmas shit up until March. Dude, you can so tell the type of family inside but he decorations outside. Especially when they’re up and it’s warm outside because it’s March. Oh man, that was a chaotic year. I think someone died that year too.

      Dude, what are your new years plans? Do you know what I’ve like never had a GREAT new years. They’ve always just been ok. And involve planning new years night on new years night. Which is terrible. This year we have a plan. YESSSSS. Dude, if I buy a ticket to St. Louis to come visit you next year, I can write my sign off like “I’ll meet you in St. Louis.” That’s kewl.

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  17. Ha ha, Butcracker–doesn’t really get better than that LIFE!! I like how I can go from calm to irrate in one sentence. Whatever.

    Are you ready for Christmas? As if it blasts off or something. Of course I am ready, now. Last night I had a Christmas melt down. In my mind everything has to be just perfect, and then I drive my LeBarron off a bridge.

    So, I gave up on my perfect Christmas dream of everything being so so, and instead, accepted my short-commings in favor of a happier, more enjoyable Christmas experience. Who cares if I got my brother a 5 pack of white tank tops, or if my Christmas wrapping is a grocery bag because hey! This year you get me. And that is a perfect Christmas.

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  18. Wait a minute…you mean to tell me that you are actually sick? And here I thought this whole time you were faking it. Go figure.

    In other news–i say God damn Prince Harry is fine. What a hunk. He looks way more American than British. Like, he has muscles. If only he gave up that English saddle for a Western. A girl can dream.

    The first horse I ever rode was named Bill, the second, Big Red. It’s funny, remembering the latter, I realize that then, I thought he was named after the cinnamon gum! The fillies of youth.

    Did you know that the exorbitant use of cinnamon is an American thing? Like, other countries don’t have cinnamon flavored gum or toothpaste. Whoa.

    You know how people use periods in between words to add emphasis? I don’t know how I feel about that.

    This week in French class, during our break when we stand around the water cooler drinking tea and attempting French conversation we talked about Swan Lake and Tchaikovsky all because there was a nutcracker on top of the microwave. Like, when would I ever have a conversation where everyone participating had an opinion about ballet? The Polish lady said she saw Swan Lake in Paris and the French guy said his sister is a ballerina in New York. We really get wild at French lessons.

    Derek told me we, and when I say we I mean humans, found a catalyst thing for matter. Like, its this magnet thing (but not an actual magnet) that attracts electrons so they can form matter. I said “what does this mean?” He said, “if we know how to make matter, then maybe we will know how to unmake it (at this point I should remove the quotes because essentially I am making this up) and we will be able to walk through walls.”

    Needless to say, this week: mind. blown.

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    • First of all, I can’t find you on twitter. Effing twitter dude, I don’t find it easy to use. If anyone is reading this besides my stupid friend Jess, can you please help @fibromyawesome find @mystupidfriendJ. Because thus far I have failed.

      Dude the matter thing is crazy. My mom and I have been watching “Through the Worm Hole” which is narrated by Morgan Freeman, the best narrator in the universe..ever…And it’s just insane. I sit there watching it thinking about time and space and black holes and anti-matter and the possibility of time travel and I feel like even the idea of comprehending those things makes my head explode. Then I turn the channel and watch the Kardashians. That Scott character is great.

      I never knew you rode horses. I can’t really imagine you on a horse. I feel like the horse wouldn’t take you seriously. LIke you kick your heels to make the thing “go” and it would just turn around and look at you. Then we’d have a laugh. That’s how I imagine riding horses with you would go. I used to ride horses in Colorado. After I got sick I had to quit gymnastics and I got all depressed because I tried other sports and I was absolutely terrible. So we tried riding and I rode one named Cactus, who liked to bite. But he was a good horse. I think Big Red is a great name, and maybe he WAS named after the gum dude. I was watching Say Yes to the Dress yesterday and this girls name was “Duvet”. Yes, as in the comforter cover. They asked her mom why they picked that name and she said “Because we knew she would bring us comfort.” Yeah. Let that swirl around a while.

      What else. The Nutcracker is so good, I love listening to it. I was typing it into Itunes the other day and I accidentally wrote Butcracker. I laughed alone for 5 minutes. That moment alone I think made my life complete.

      Find me on Twitter!

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  19. I felt that since its December I should write something here to you Jess. Also I only found this page in December.

    I intend to ask a new question every month until I die. Or get bored or forget. I feel Mary is too popular so instead I will access her through the equally awesome but less-in-demand friend. It’s like hitting on Robin (he’s gay*) so you can meet Batman.

    Question 1: Who is your all-time favorite Wrestler?

    * I’m not**
    ** Or am I?

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  20. Mary, your poems suck. They don’t even rhyme.

    I’ve got one:

    “Prodigal Vespers”

    I farted

    Then I fastballed my face

    Sweet redemption

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    • Jess, Prodigal Vespers was really good. I connected with it, strongly. It’s fun when you are mean to me. Remember that one time in France, you kept stating what a lame name “Mary” is. “But seriously guys, Mary is SUCH a lame name. But it IS fun to say. MYYYARY.” Thanks Jess. Thanks a lot.

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      • Today, and I use today in the figurative sense, I am on board with the name Mary. It rules. It also turned me on to Biblical names, which also rule. And now, I like Mary double names like MaryAnn. My world has opened up like a can of sardines, which reminds me of a factoid from a Snapple bottle cap: the can opener was invented 40 years after the can. Like Joey says “Whoa Six!” And Mary, what is that noise? Oh yeah, its me snapping for you poems. Kudos. You rock.

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