Its been a while since I’ve done much besides sit inside my apartment and read old newspapers and periodicals so that I can remember the things that have happened lately. But today I decided I had a good enough grasp on the world to stroll around the block for a bit. The trends are changing and now its like the bigger the glasses you have, and the dirtier you are, the more fly people think you are. And I met a kid today that must have been the flyest motherfucker since MC hammer. He had huge yellow framed sunglasses, a dirt stained white v-neck tee, and air forces that look like they came straight from a place that this little white kid probably didn’t belong in. I walked behind him and breathed in fumes of schwag weed and tobacco for almost ten blocks. He finally turned around to ask me if I wanted to buy some “tree”, and I said “from the spice rack?” and he said “what” and I said “nevermind”. I thought that was the extent of our stellar conversation until he said “Hey dude,(and all I thought about was nickolodeon and cowboys) you ever feel like you are full of a fluid that you just wish you could drain”. I politely told him I wasn’t into that sorta thing but if he were to go a few blocks east he might find the sort of guy he was looking for. He said “Nah man I mean like this red ooze that I wish would just poor out of me from narrow paths”. I said “Oh you mean blood? For the most part I’d like to keep it in my body, it is the major reason why I wake up on horrible mornings, and the only thing that I think keeps me alive.” He said “Sometimes I wish I was like my cat, he plays dead, but hes not, he just lies around all day and pretends like he has no ounce of red left in him.” He proceeded to pull a dead cat from his napsack and said “See how dead he looks”. And I nodded, the cat certainly did look dead, for all the things this kid was he certainly didn’t seem to be a liar. The cats neck looked twisted beyond a normal degree, and indeed I think that if the cat was just pretending than it is a better actor than most of the pretty boys in Hollywood. This kid freaked even me out, and I left rather abrubtly, thinking to myself that if I gotta kill cats and slit my wrists to be cool that I better get myself a cat and a razorblade.