Forecast for the Future

"Every individual without exception bears a potential writer within himself. The reason is that everyone has trouble accepting the fact that he will disappear unheard of and unnoticed in an indifferent universe, and everyone wants to make himself into a universe of words before it's too late. 

Once the writer in every individual comes to life (and that time is not that far off), we are in for an age of universal deafness and lack of understanding."

- Milan Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Random Historical Remembrance: Secret Admirers

So Doorknobs just walked over to me and handed me a note that he has been holding onto, which I received four years ago in April 2004 from some female friends who thought it would be fun to bust my balls on a night we were having a party at the house, by planting thongs (yes, thongs) and raunchy love letters throughout my apartment. It would have been a funny prank at the time too, were I not a) a little too serious & sensitive for my own good, b) a little too absentminded for my own good, and c) had my estranged, hot-and-bothered (angry, not horny) ex-girlfriend not just shown up at the apartment a few minutes before one of the thongs was pulled from between the couch cushions and announced to the party. Oh yeah, and I was a little too inebriated for my own good. So yeah. That was a good time.

Anyway, here's the "letter" in all it's glory. I'm glad it's legible cause i'd rather not have to retype it and then start showing up in a Google search when someone enters the words "Jeffrey Beaumont" "wet" and "horny". Oh. Oops.

Believe it or not, those stains are from Doorknobs tossing the note onto a plate of bacon today. Not anything else.

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