a gorgeous perfect day. a gross public display. a grand perfect dream. a generalized philosophical drag. a geostrophically poignant demise. a glamorously playful perspective. a giant powerful dog. A gin per diem. a principal distinction. A good person dyes.
More than 3 years ago I wrote my friend Chris this email.
The replacement cat, Delilah. Not the Margiela mentioned below. Long story short: the fierce feline died after the third time a car hit her.
The most awful thing happened accidentally on purpose to me. We got a cat. i let it get this far let’s give it a shot i told Margiela that’s the cat’s name the allergies aren’t that bad no i’ll suck it up i said how are we supposed to do anything now that we have the cat? how do the french do it? how do the boys in berkeley do it? and the menagerie of cats poking their heads through the gap between the window blinds and the window facing the great humans outdoors staring intensely now one of them is on my lap purring staring at a computer screen my boyfriend is in love with her your cat “our” cat she loves him and I try not to touch myself with unwashed cats because of paranoia how are we supposed to have sex how are we supposed to do anything now that we have that cat?? She’s so stunning and all cats are But I don’t know how to move in the same space as her
his response was that it’s like a retirement plan: crazy old mexican cat lady all you need now is a mustache.
