Hasana Made Breakfast AGAIN today
Or maybe Will did--I'm not sure. I was still asleep, but after they left, I went down to the kitchen to get my own breakfast (a cup of coffee) and saw a skillet out as well as some pepper and a spatula. Being a brilliant deducer of clues, I quickly figured out that someone quite possibly may have fried an egg or two. The other smart thing I accidentally did was to not notice that Ernesto slid out the door some time last night and so consequently, he spent the entire night outside where it was very cold. Hasana spotted him the morning, clinging by all fours on the top half of the screen door. Why was this smart of me? Because now he will never want to go outside ever again. See? Tricky!
I'm sitting in Rocket Cat Cafe which is why I'm able to get on-line. Always an interesting mix of people here. Currently, we have a guy with intentional Elvis hair (slicked back, long sideburns. He is being ironic. He also wears Dickies jeans and has a chain wallet), an older man in a Red Phillies hat and blue blazer with brown elbow patches, a guy with Jesus hair and a bad camo shirt, an older woman in a red turtleneck and very red lipstick. She is writing something--a letter or maybe it's an entry in old fashioned style blog; I believe it's called a journal? Maybe she's writing about who is in here too: "woman sitting by the window with a black eye. Should I offer to help her out? None of my business. Still, it is a shame. She must've deserved it." A dorky nineteen year old kid with his dorky parents (mom has a backpack). The assorted mess of hipster kids--another guy with a chain wallet and boots, tons of thin, pale girls with purposefully disheveled hair and low slung cords, arm tattoos everywhere you turn and one or two semi-cute hipster guys though they tend to look as though they might have a certain unwashed, pee-on-the-jeans smell.
Okay, like, there's like this girl behind me who is like, talking like this? "That night, I like, wait, was it that night or like another night? Well, anyway, I like was walking down like the sidewalk you know and then this car like drove by--I mean, it was on the street and everything, but still, you know, it was so loud the way the car turned and I was like, Jesus!
Learn to drive!" She has not paused for the last ten minutes and has used the word "like" no less than 456 times. "You know, I'm like, am I being selfish for wanting to like have everyone think about what I need all the time? And then I like decided that no way, dude, that is like a perfectly legitmary way to be, right?" Now she's talking about running into some girl who did something to her once and how scary it was. "And he's like and she's like..." I just can't get over how much she is saying LIKE. Great, a baby came in and now we'll have to pretend that everything it does is adorable. Even the babies in this place are hip--this baby is wearing velour, multi-colored bell bottom pants. I am not kidding.
I'm sitting in Rocket Cat Cafe which is why I'm able to get on-line. Always an interesting mix of people here. Currently, we have a guy with intentional Elvis hair (slicked back, long sideburns. He is being ironic. He also wears Dickies jeans and has a chain wallet), an older man in a Red Phillies hat and blue blazer with brown elbow patches, a guy with Jesus hair and a bad camo shirt, an older woman in a red turtleneck and very red lipstick. She is writing something--a letter or maybe it's an entry in old fashioned style blog; I believe it's called a journal? Maybe she's writing about who is in here too: "woman sitting by the window with a black eye. Should I offer to help her out? None of my business. Still, it is a shame. She must've deserved it." A dorky nineteen year old kid with his dorky parents (mom has a backpack). The assorted mess of hipster kids--another guy with a chain wallet and boots, tons of thin, pale girls with purposefully disheveled hair and low slung cords, arm tattoos everywhere you turn and one or two semi-cute hipster guys though they tend to look as though they might have a certain unwashed, pee-on-the-jeans smell.
Okay, like, there's like this girl behind me who is like, talking like this? "That night, I like, wait, was it that night or like another night? Well, anyway, I like was walking down like the sidewalk you know and then this car like drove by--I mean, it was on the street and everything, but still, you know, it was so loud the way the car turned and I was like, Jesus!
Learn to drive!" She has not paused for the last ten minutes and has used the word "like" no less than 456 times. "You know, I'm like, am I being selfish for wanting to like have everyone think about what I need all the time? And then I like decided that no way, dude, that is like a perfectly legitmary way to be, right?" Now she's talking about running into some girl who did something to her once and how scary it was. "And he's like and she's like..." I just can't get over how much she is saying LIKE. Great, a baby came in and now we'll have to pretend that everything it does is adorable. Even the babies in this place are hip--this baby is wearing velour, multi-colored bell bottom pants. I am not kidding.
Comments
Rocket Cat sounds, like, crowded.