Toto, ain't no way we're in fucking Kansas anymore.
Um, did anyone else feel that quake? Um, did anyone else feel like they were being used as Parchezee dice for god? First I keptthinking, as I lay there next to my snoring boyfriend in his cardboard apartement building, "Who are those fucking airhead jocks downstairs trying to murder this evening?" And then I thought, as books fell on our heads and the shelves just narrowly missed us and an incredibly loud rumbling drummed through our ears, "I'm going to die." (SO classic, right? I'm sure this is Hollywoods's fault.) When we turned on the lights we saw what was once a bedroom now looked like the home of WWWF masters on meth. Dresser drawers had slid completely out of the dresser and onto the floor. The gigantic bookcase in his living room had fallen over and most of the wine glasses in his cupboards had slid out and crashed to the floor. You should have seen his roommate's (who missed it all as he sat sipping Kahlua on Hawaiian sands) old cat, Yuki. She looked like she'd just witnessed hellfire after taking one too many bumps. SHe darted around the room like she was being chased by demons, and she kept smelling the fallen furniture like they were dead comrades. Every time we looked at her she bolted. Poor thing. Ya'll should see our house. I guess because of faulty WWII era foundations the ceiling has miraculously stayed in place while the walls have done a little jig, splitting here and there. I feel so snug.