Megan Boyle

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made out with TV while watching ‘con air’ (crush on nicolas cage, brief period, weird). forgot to windex. mom found it, made me clean it

Safari’s repeating “Your message has not been sent” sounds condescending. Of course I know the message has not been sent. I don’t care about not sending it. This is a minor event in my life. However, since this seems to matter significantly more to Safari than it does to me, and I like Safari and don’t want to risk hurting its feelings, I agree to take a second look at my page before I close it.

Four or five people of indiscriminate gender film themselves as they walk through the woods to a cave containing the oldest paintings ever discovered. Werner Herzog is one of the people. Everyone is wearing the same navy blue jumpsuit.

Every time a Waka Flocka Flame song plays, whether the listener is aware of it or not, they will experience two to eight thoughts Werner Herzog has thought. Every time a Waka Flocka Flame plays around Werner Herzog he feels uncomfortable but doesn’t know why. Immediately after viewing Herzog’s Land of Silence and Darkness, Waka Flocka Flame retreated to his room for a week and denies seeing the film to this day.

Go to sleep too late. Wake up too early. Eat bagels in a strip mall with someone you had a class with at community college. Spend lunch breaks wandering grocery store aisles. Meet your mother at a diner. Attend “bar night” with some co-workers. Leave last. Smoke a cigarette. Paint your nails blue. Have sex right away or don’t have it at all.

“I was on the way to meet my study group, like, walking the same way I always do, when it just came over me: I needed to die. I’ve never really felt that before, with that kind of clarity. When I got to the lab I was the only one getting WiFi. I’m actually still going at 804.12g’s, woooo! [laughs] Anyways, I’m drowning myself tonight.”

Throughout the party video, I can be seen openly suckling on the Easy Cheese can, sometimes staring into the distance in an affectedly vacant manner as it hangs out of my mouth. I made sure I was always eating or about to eat, because it would make the party crazier and because I “deserved it.” I alternated between the Easy Cheese, a tube of raw chocolate chip cookie dough, and a 2-liter bottle of Wild Cherry Pepsi.

Wake for an hour at 3:30PM next to your sleeping husband. Your essay now seems obviously horrible. People want to read about loneliness and depression and failed relationships, not your “refreshingly whimsical,” uninformed philosophizing about reality, especially because it was stereotypically preempted by a drug experience and paired with the cheap “Girl Writes about Shitting” device.

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