Sometimes I’ll be watering my aloe vera and if the neighbour kids are around I’ll say something like “things take time to grow” with a mysterious smile and hope they become filmmakers who will credit me in their acclaimed directorial debut at Cannes
If you want to become a trickster god that fits into current American psyche then the random item should always be a weapon of some kind, ranging from a foam sword to a fully kitted ar-15.
I’m looking forward to the day when I’m old enough I can get away with using the phrase “my child” to someone much younger than me, someone who is not in fact my child.
You gotta throw in some contrast and a bit of mystery, maybe the next day come come out in a navy seal hat, cowboy boots and daisy dukes while armed with a buckshot. Then you shoot the pigeons off your roof while yelling: “God
damn it Amanda, at least we’ll always have Fallujah!”
come out in a navy seal hat, cowboy boots and daisy dukes while armed with a buckshot. Then you shoot the pigeons off your roof while yelling: “God damn it Amanda, at least we’ll always have Fallujah!”
This is how we in Europe imagine an average weekend in American suburbs.
Sometimes I’ll be watering my aloe vera and if the neighbour kids are around I’ll say something like “things take time to grow” with a mysterious smile and hope they become filmmakers who will credit me in their acclaimed directorial debut at Cannes
My goal is to someday be a mysterious old lady, taking walks alone with a bag of various, nonsensical items over my shoulder.
I want to come across lone hikers, reach into my bag, pull out something random and say, “Take this. It will help you on your journey.”
Then walk away into the fog without another word.
If you want to become a trickster god that fits into current American psyche then the random item should always be a weapon of some kind, ranging from a foam sword to a fully kitted ar-15.
I’m looking forward to the day when I’m old enough I can get away with using the phrase “my child” to someone much younger than me, someone who is not in fact my child.
You gotta throw in some contrast and a bit of mystery, maybe the next day come come out in a navy seal hat, cowboy boots and daisy dukes while armed with a buckshot. Then you shoot the pigeons off your roof while yelling: “God damn it Amanda, at least we’ll always have Fallujah!”
This is how we in Europe imagine an average weekend in American suburbs.