messages to jabu:
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from brittania :
Ron said he's never even read Bulfinch's mythology, thank you very much. Man. I told him he must've been an ostrich in the 80s with his head in the ground. He knew the Safety Dance at least. Hey J.B. hey hey hey. XO.
from brittania :
J.B., I called and left a message on somebody's answering machine (I hope yours). I'm excited (tearing up, really) that you made me all those cds and wrote me that letter (I read the part about the laundromat outloud-- the zipper-- Steven Seigal can fuck it up!). Plus, the smoothie. "It sucks, Britt." I am in Florida, as you know, and I just walked home from one of Ron's friend's houses. No one cares that I left, and I'm having one helluva pity party over here. I feel really devastated except for that you did all that. I think I called Frances my lifesaver (maybe talisman?) one time, and I mean it to you, today. I'm keeping my head above water (Good Times) thanks to you. XXXXXXXXXX. With tongue deep. Love from Britt.
from brittania :
If I could only have such a good party. Your friends weren't asses to me. They were asses to you. Where did they go? they kept saying. They didn't get it. And David was trying. So we played bocci ball with ultra-competitors. But they were nice to their dogs and okay by me. I like weinies in the fire. Best damn weinie I ever had. (Sorry Ron). XOXOXO.
from brittania :
Tucks, baby. Yep. Smaller problem, now. I got a whole treatment system going on. It requires careful monitoring and even more careful wiping. I'm wondering if it's something you live with forever, though? Like, it goes down but never away? I'm very frightened. You know, that shitting can be such a terror instead of heaven-relief. My disillusionment continues, then. XXX.OOO. Britt
from brittania :
Also I think you must tell me your middle name again because it quite possibly cracked me up. Bellingham? First name? James. James Boudoir, undercover agent. Maybe don't tell me. That's sticking for me. You carry a pistol and a condom. For protection.
from brittania :
I was at your birthday party more than you were at your birthday party. Who loves Barnacle Bill the Sailor more than me? Nobody. I had funner than hell. Thanks for the weinie. Hotdog. I'll know next time about the stick. You party-shirt sad eyes poison ivy feet. I'm cool is all. Much love for you, brother. Sorry about cocaine bartender. I'll sling drinks for you. So will Frances. Ask her. I bet she'll do it, in my absence. XO.
from elvisload :
plus i forgot to say....i had this job once...i was 14 and i was a teller in a bank...yup believe it or not...and i used to jerk in that bank bathroom all the time...anyhoo

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