A few years ago, a psychic told me that I should go to Austen, Texas.
She also said that I wouldn't be ready to get married until I was about 34 years old.
It makes sense to me. I am keeping my eyes open for cheap travel to Texas because what she said is there for me is something I have wanted for a while.
No secret-- it's money. She said there is money 'for me' there.
It would be even cooler if there were some kind of buried treasure or a long lost relative there. I know there were most certainly some relatives of mine who 'went west' back in the day. And the slutty side of the family probably made some babies during the Spanish American war. Slutty, or rapy, whatever you wanna call it. Conception doesn't care.
While I was walking in San Francisco, I couldn't help but notice a store called "The Rapy." Regardless of how many times locals corrected my mispronunciation of the storefront sign, I summoned the power of my English degree and told all of them that the capital 'R' seals the deal on the name. We should all just go with it. Rapy fashion is something in between skater, homo-chic, trust fund-hipster, and just plain old cool.
Gotta stay on the cutting edge, my friends.
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1 comment:
i presume (and approve) that homo-sheik is some Arabic version of homo-chic.
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