You and I fall together—you and I sleep alone.
I’m putting together the latest Sandusky Review this week—”Little Mascara”—I know, it’s named after a Replacements song, how long am I going to plumb the eternal cassette depths of my college years for meaning and love, ain’t you got no new tricks in that bag, grandpa? O WE’RE GONNA DO THIS UNTIL WE’RE OUTTA JUICE, FOLX.
Anyway it’s been a great weekend with great friends and football and tofu sammiches and too much Diet Coke and maybe some 4-wheeler riding. And I’m trying to con Prof. & the Contessa into letting me crash at their place in a couple weekends which is going to be fun + legendary and smell like Fleur de Lis and we’re gonna watch a lot of football and maybe have a bonfire? I don’t know, it is literally on the bayou, things get crazy sometimes. It’s a good thing.
Everybody’s broke but we’re sweet and the weather is pretty and we have some great records and apple-cheeked babies and “How I Left the Ministry” and let’s be thankful for that. I’m already planning other artifacts and taking some new Polaroids with Silver Shade and okay yeah I drank too much Diet Coke and I’m really hyper right now but have a good night and see you l8rs, g8rz. xoxoxox
I just want to be clear that it’s the weekend that will smell like Fleur de Lis, not our house. Our house will smell like the Pastime Lounge. Also: bonfire is go!
Also, I have some 1973 Ka-Zars for you.