ALOHA FROM YOUR MOM´S PLACE
HAY GUYZ. I return to Fluffya in like four daze. The internet here costs five billion dollars per second here (not an exaggeration) so this has been typed before I take the 20-ft long detachable phone cable and plug it in on the other side of the apartment. Look, upside-down question marks and exclamation points: ¿¡¿¡¿
¿¡¿¡¿IT IS ONE BILLION DEGREES OUT. CELCIUS. WOWZERS. The Eurotrash mullet is fer serious this summer´s fashion accessory. There are many goffs. I hate goffs. Goffs are worse than Eurotrash. They are certainly just as homosexual.
¿¡¿¡¿BARCELONA IS ON THE COAST THERE ARE MANY BOATS. I rhymed. They are actually mostly tacky yachts that hold no interest for me, so I have not been geeking out as much as you´d expect.
¿¡¿¡¿AHAHA HARRY POTTER. They had this clip on CNBC (one of two English-language channels we get) of teenage girls swarming over those books and one of them was like I WAITED 20 HOURS IN LINE ZOMGGGZ. I virtually exploded with lolz.
¿¡¿¡¿There is no coffee machine here, only weird in-cup manual-drip-things that produce something brown, warm, and liquid; whether this substance can be legally called ´coffee´ is heavily debated. It´s the weak-willed, snivelling sort of coffee that is no doubt favored by homosexual American expats crouching miserably somewhere in the south of Paris. It´s enough to make one break down and cry in the morning. Great men have certainly wept at lesser evils.
!!!THINGS I NEED:
1. A gigantic cup of strong black coffee.
2. Human contact. I think I´ve forgotten how to converse. I open my mouth and very little comes out (unless I´ve been drinking something); I´m afraid that the first few people to talk to me once I return home will get little more than a grunt and one or two stomps of the foot.
3. Food that does not in any way involve ham, cheese, or tuna (they put tuna on everything, no lie).
4. A stiff drink, pref. a whiskey and soda. Mr. Walker, how I´ve missed ye.
5. Television that is not bad Spanish rock videos, stock market analyses, or men´s volleyball.
SO GUYZ I NEED A PARTY LIKE ON THE THIRD OR SO. KAY?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?
¿¡¿¡¿IT IS ONE BILLION DEGREES OUT. CELCIUS. WOWZERS. The Eurotrash mullet is fer serious this summer´s fashion accessory. There are many goffs. I hate goffs. Goffs are worse than Eurotrash. They are certainly just as homosexual.
¿¡¿¡¿BARCELONA IS ON THE COAST THERE ARE MANY BOATS. I rhymed. They are actually mostly tacky yachts that hold no interest for me, so I have not been geeking out as much as you´d expect.
¿¡¿¡¿AHAHA HARRY POTTER. They had this clip on CNBC (one of two English-language channels we get) of teenage girls swarming over those books and one of them was like I WAITED 20 HOURS IN LINE ZOMGGGZ. I virtually exploded with lolz.
¿¡¿¡¿There is no coffee machine here, only weird in-cup manual-drip-things that produce something brown, warm, and liquid; whether this substance can be legally called ´coffee´ is heavily debated. It´s the weak-willed, snivelling sort of coffee that is no doubt favored by homosexual American expats crouching miserably somewhere in the south of Paris. It´s enough to make one break down and cry in the morning. Great men have certainly wept at lesser evils.
!!!THINGS I NEED:
1. A gigantic cup of strong black coffee.
2. Human contact. I think I´ve forgotten how to converse. I open my mouth and very little comes out (unless I´ve been drinking something); I´m afraid that the first few people to talk to me once I return home will get little more than a grunt and one or two stomps of the foot.
3. Food that does not in any way involve ham, cheese, or tuna (they put tuna on everything, no lie).
4. A stiff drink, pref. a whiskey and soda. Mr. Walker, how I´ve missed ye.
5. Television that is not bad Spanish rock videos, stock market analyses, or men´s volleyball.
SO GUYZ I NEED A PARTY LIKE ON THE THIRD OR SO. KAY?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?