I’m over you completely now. April Fools! I’m still completely heartbroken and madly in love. My friends hate me because I bring you up constantly. Last night I drove past IHOP and I actually said to the people in the car, “I think Matt’s eaten there before…” and the mood got really weird and my friend who was driving just turned up the radio and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Do you see what you’ve done to me? I have a case of the You Tourette’s and even I’m grossed out by it. I want my old brain back. No one told me that falling in love meant being eventually dumped and becoming insane. So fuck you and fuck April Fools Day. Text me back!
Your memoir sounds like a really good idea. April fools! You’re 21 and still in college. What could you possibly write about? Liberal arts college darkness? If I wrote a memoir today it would probably be 30 chapters of the same opening sentence “So this other time I got stoned and listened to Slowdive…” I doubt yours would be much different so step away from the MacBook Pro, sister. Check yourself before you memoir yourself.
I’m getting married! April fools! That’s not allowed in the state of New York. You know what gay guys are allowed to do though? Be super bitchy and super sexy and super slutty. That’s recognized in like the whole United States of America. Phew! Who needs a marriage license when you have sass to fall back on?!
I can’t wait to be a real grown up and have a dog or something. April fools! Well, actually I kind of want a dog but if I got one now I think I would kill it. It would inhale too much incense in my apartment, let out a sad woof, and just die. I have enough trouble keeping myself alive (#dark) so I’m certainly not fit to be a caretaker. But being wILd and CrAzy is more important than caring for another life form right now. I’m in no rush to be functional.
I care about your job, your vacation to Boca, your OkCupid profile, your status updates, the fact that you just checked into Hell (The Olive Garden) on Foursquare, every single facet of your virtual life. April Fools! Unless you’re cute and I kinda wanna marry you. Then I care about every single thing you do and spend a lot of time stalking you on the Internet and acting surprised when you tell me things about yourself IRL. “Oh you’re going to Spain? I had no idea! I didn’t just see your tweet “I’m going to Spain!” and look up cheap flights! How exciting and unexpected!” I don’t know anything about you. April Fucking Fools. I know everything.
I hate my parents. April Fools! I’m obsessed with them and get upset that they sometimes don’t return my phone calls.
I don’t participate in April Fools Day because it’s a useless “holiday” and why does it even exist? I would never dedicate 500 words to it in a blog post because that would be so dumb and flat and oh my god April Fools!
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You can, instead, be the friend who was talking about your latest dates, the fantastic lovers you’ve taken, the goals you’ve set for yourself and the goals you’ve accomplished, all while being proud of understanding the role that you want love to play in your life, and maybe the fact that you will not just settle for someone for the sake of having it.
““I miss you, ya know? But I don’t at the same time. I don’t miss this.”
To be black and to vote Republican don’t seem to go together. But where does this distrust of black Republicanism come from? Are black people really slaves to the Democratic party?
Your soggy twisted clothes are starting to get all pruney in the washing machine.