february nineteenth. half-past noon.
good afternoon how are you today
march thirteenth. quarter 'til noon.
good morning how are you today
march twenty-first. half past five p.m.
i'd responded to the first and not gotten a reply. i responded to the last, too:
so you've written me one-line emails three times now. i'm curious to know whether you're capable of writing other words?
i didn't get a response to that one, either. but then i don't want one, which is why i wrote what i did. i sincerely hope never to receive a thing from that dude again.
i'm bored. but then, also... i forget how much dating messes with my head, and i don't like it when it does that, so the boredom's actually preferable. how sad is that?
also... george lucas had to make a character like han solo. who could possible be as badassed as that guy?
my appreciation for him was born right around the time i became addicted to coca-cola, so for four decades, i've been trying to find a dude that cool. yeah. i know. it's never gonna happen.