I want to learn how to do a Boston accent, and a New York accent just so that I can sound like a really shitty but bad ass cop down on his luck, ready to fuck the justice system and get some sweet, sweet vengeance.
I spent yesterday at Snakes & Lattes.
It was cool.
I filmed some of it.
We’re a cool thing! Woohoo!
I just learned that snakes and freakin’ LATTES saw this. freaking out. okay. this is cool. I think we’re like totally bffs now, right? okay.
I’ll visit you again sometime. you’re totally a cool thing.
oh man, i randomly decided to start a story in which an overly aggressive girl scout and her best friend are selling cookies when they stumble across an alien when he’s being beamed back up into his spaceship. And the alien is all like “Ohshit, i can get into trouble for this… fuck fuck fuck.” and drops them off at the nearest planet. and then the two are like “wait. what the fuck. where are we. this is not earth. shit. we must get back to earth.”
and basically, the entire thing is going to be them going back to earth either via hitchhiking, portals, and possibly taking the inter galactic bus.
I don’t even know, man.
I was like, why not?
Also, there’s another character in the story who is like a depressed, cowardly author who had the exact same thing happen to him and he’s dealing with it terribly. But then he meets the kids and he’s like “OH SHIT. HELLO INSPIRATION!” and then at the end, he publishes a book and buys some cookies from the girl.
Yes. I did just plan out the story while typing this.
“A good detective knows that every task, every interaction, no matter how seemingly banal, has the potential to contain multitudes.
I live my life alert to this possibility. I expect my colleagues to do the same.”
