For Halloween 2008, I was Amy Winehouse. It was the illest costume ever. On seeing photos, my own brother was like 'You make an incredibly convincing crackhead'. (Also, no hate here. I am a huge huge huge Amy Winehouse fan, this was a tribute costume. It just happened to be an uncanny one.)
Kyle took all the pictures of the night, and I'm glad he took approximately five minutes longer than I wanted to wait to post the pictures on Facebook, because I had a fortunate realization, leading me to send him the following message - on Facebook.
Yo,
I was going to be like 'PLEASE PUT UP THE HALLOWEEN PICTURES ALREADY' but then I was like 'wait, in the 'morning after' photos I'm totally wearing sweatpants that I stole from some dude I hooked up with this summer and we're facebook friends and I don't want him to see those pictures and be like 'OH, NOW I REMEMBER WHAT I DID WITH THOSE PANTS' because they're absolutely the kind of pants that a person would drive themselves nuts trying to find, because they're the most perfect sweatpants ever, and I don't want to give them back.
And I actually only thought of this because that guy just called and I think God sort of text-messaged my brain like "MAKE SURE KYLE KNOWS TO TELL YOU BEFORE HE POSTS THE PICTURES SO YOU CAN UN-TAG YOURSELF" because I don't know if I'm going to see this guy again, but if I do, I definitely don't want him to bring up the pants, because he's a Republican, so I don't see it going anywhere, but I foresee a long, happy life for those pants, and I am TOTALLY IN IT.
Guess what happened?
I was going to be like 'PLEASE PUT UP THE HALLOWEEN PICTURES ALREADY' but then I was like 'wait, in the 'morning after' photos I'm totally wearing sweatpants that I stole from some dude I hooked up with this summer and we're facebook friends and I don't want him to see those pictures and be like 'OH, NOW I REMEMBER WHAT I DID WITH THOSE PANTS' because they're absolutely the kind of pants that a person would drive themselves nuts trying to find, because they're the most perfect sweatpants ever, and I don't want to give them back.
And I actually only thought of this because that guy just called and I think God sort of text-messaged my brain like "MAKE SURE KYLE KNOWS TO TELL YOU BEFORE HE POSTS THE PICTURES SO YOU CAN UN-TAG YOURSELF" because I don't know if I'm going to see this guy again, but if I do, I definitely don't want him to bring up the pants, because he's a Republican, so I don't see it going anywhere, but I foresee a long, happy life for those pants, and I am TOTALLY IN IT.
Guess what happened?
And remember, the life of kk is sort of an inverted romantic comedy, so everything works out in the end. By which, I mean:
I still rock those sweatpants on the regular - and now they're all shrunken and frayed and perfect and a wonderful part of my home life. And I have no idea what happened to that Republican guy. Although we probably are still Facebook friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment