October 3, 2005

I had a wonderful time with Dorothy Parker Boy yesterday.

Even the Chinese restaurant where we met for lunch thought so; my fortune cookie read: Your present plans are going to succeed. His said something to a similar effect, though I don't remember.

Then he went to the library for the afternoon because he still believes in doing homework for some odd reason while I went home and sexually harassed my shirtless republican roommate.

Dorothy Parker Boy came over after dinner and we went for a walk, spending a couple of hours laying on the docks, holding hands and finding objects in the clouds like a rorschach test.

(Yeah I saw you roll your eyes, mister, and the baby jesus cries at your cynicism.)

And when he mentioned that he was majoring in Russian Literature I didn't cream my pants on the spot, as I would have thought.

I did, however, get a semi.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.