(That is a terrible name for this game. I’ve been trying to think of a more graceful one for weeks.)
There is a game I have created that I often play as a passenger on the roads of life. The game involves license plates and spelling but not anagrams. (It doesn’t work with vanity plates like the one above that I came up with and I thought was hilarious when I was younger.) (It is also hilarious now.) [and then suddenly…]
Also. I hugged a panda and scratched his ear and was not arrested and now we are pen pals. Here for my embarrassment and your viewing pleasure:
It was pretty great, and I have a necklace and bracelet and earrings and communist poster and book and mushroom cloud pin and greater understanding of that giant country.
Things are not so bad. It’s odd, actually. I make plans in my head all the time, and when I was home for graduation parties my brother said he does the same, and even if its for small stupid things it ruins my day when it doesn’t happen. Right before I graduated I said that it was the end of the world, the photo album of the last week of school was ‘end of my life,’ and I meant it. [and then suddenly…]