Shut-In

Made it to one party and not the other.
Although I was anxious about going to Martin's birthday at first, that subsided.
I said day of that I would go if I received a personal message from her.
This would suggest she really wanted me there.
Then she totally did send me a personal message.
I later talk to her on the telephone (which I now have. It is green. It is mine. I call Newfoundland for free) machine, and I was the only person she sent a personal message to.
So I bought a hat.
A tiara. It lit up. A plastic one. Not a jewel-encrusted one.
I double-booked and fucked up getting to her.
Today, I really feel awful about it. I feel as though I've missed out. I rarely feel like this.
It's kinda weird.
I wish her phone had voicemail.

I have to be funny tonight.
Well, I don't have to be, but it would likely be best if i am.

I made a fuck shirt yesterday. My newest.
I take it for a test drive, as I do with all prototypes.
In da mall.
I run into family friends of mom and dad. And some random tanned people that they happen to be having coffee with.
I meet these people. They are wearing a lot of gold. They seem happy, but I think they were faking it.
"Did you tell your mother about this shirt?"
"No, but she'll be thrilled to hear that you saw me wearing it. And that I met some of your friends in the process (gesture to the fakers)."
My mother taught grades K to 3 for 30 years.
We don't see eye to eye on censorship issues.
I am the unpredictable son that has to be explained.
But I have the whackiest hair.