I was on talking on my home phone to Kim. At the same time I was texting back to Dasha on my cell phone. I stood on one leg and leaned back against the brick wall. The heel of my boot slipped on the concrete floor and I slid down the wall and fell on my butt. I was so flustered I began talking into my cell phone to Kim, wondering why I couldn’t hear her. I thought I hung up on her but could still faintly hear her saying “hello, hello, hello?” from the home phone. Then I absently mindedly hung up my home phone to call her back on my cell phone. Then I explained the whole thing to her while laughing uncontrollably.

I was walking to the UPS store carrying a large box.

As I passed a group of firemen, one of them said, “He’ll help you carry your package,”
pushing another fireman towards me.

I laughed and said, “So you’re volunteer firemen.”

I had borrowed my boyfriend’s bike when he was in LA. We lived on the Notorious B.I.G.’s block. I had been riding it during the day and locked it to the gate outside with a u-lock and forgot about it. I usually either bring it upstairs at night or lock it with a kryptonite bike chain for the frame and back tire and use the u-lock for the front tire. It was about 2AM and I was sitting in the living room at the front of the apartment with the windows open, it was summer. I was up way too late for no reason at all and found myself watching some really bad softcore porn. I heard the sound of metal against metal and jumped up to look outside the window. I saw a homeless guy with a huge crowbar; about six feet tall, trying to pry open my lock.

I yelled down from the window, “Hey, that’s my bike!”

He looked up and said, “Ok, I won’t take it.”

I came downstairs with the bike chain in tow; a weapon I now know as a ‘smiley.’
I had no intention of leaving the bike downstairs now.
The homeless guy was still there, riffling through the garbage.
I was trembling as I began to unlock my bike.

The homeless guy said to me, “I told you I wasn’t going to take it.”

I’m thinking I’m going to trust you? I just caught you stealing my bike!

I’m television psychic. I have the ability to predict the surprise outcomes and shocking twists in plots. Fifteen minutes into a show I can tell you that the brother murdered his sister and made his girlfriend get plastic surgery to look like his sister in order to inherit his mother’s estate. Sometimes there is a clue planted, like the way the brother held his girlfriend-pretending-to-be-his-sister’s hand in the interrogation room. Even when the plot tried to lead you towards believing it was incest, I wasn’t buying it, I knew.

Someone came into the store I was working at and asked if they could hang a flyer in the window. It had a drawing of a bike on it and said,

“I stole your bike, it was kinda your fault.”

It went on to explain how he had stolen the bike one drunken night to ride home. He said it was easy to steal because it was poorly locked. He left contact information so the person could get their bike back.

Butcher: im sleepy

me: i know you get up early.

Butcher: i wake up really early
I need 8 hours

me: beauty sleep.
that’s why you still have hair.
get some sleep.

Butcher: im only 36 not 86

me: the curious case of benjamin button

Butcher: shut up

Today is my aunt’s wedding anniversary.

Can you imagine two people trusting each other enough to get married on April Fools’ Day?