you know 11 is my number.
really.
yeah. what's yours?
42.
really? 42? funny!
why.
i don't know...
so i come to walk the dogs and then i'm eating cake and pizza and talking about snooty rich lab school parents who treat kids like a kind of insecure ego currency. well what do i know, they brought it up, but i naturally weigh in and even start talking about y new rich dad. so quick i veer. giddy, whoops, excuse me, nerves. in fact you think i'm a little crazy, right. it would be absurd to deny such a sensible supposition. anyhow we appear to agree about stuff but after all it's a kids party and we want to be friends and in fact it's so easy.
a fellow says, you're like the uncle, and i say that's right, i'm like this weird uncle dog who kind of floats through peoples lives.
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