Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Here's the text that should have accompanied that last post, if, you know, I weren't such a pig.

My childhood room. I miss it.

When I was 6, my mom brought me to a wallpaper store. She let me choose my own wallpaper, which was pretty fucking cool. I went with a white with pink and blue flower pattern. To snazz it up, it came with a matching border that had bears dancing around a May pole. The carpet was tan, I think. And the matching furniture set was glossy white with gold accents (ooh la la!). As time went on, I acquired a few layers.

A teenaged inventory of sorts:

Fuzzy black light poster/Green Day Dookie poster/Nirvana poster/Fake Spencer's Gifts Tesla coil thing/Rancid poster (mother was not pleased)/Glow in the dark stars/Tin foil stars that hung from threads from the ceiling inspired by Smashing Pumpkins 'Tonight, Tonight' video/Blue tinsel to frame said Rancid poster/Requisite Christmas lights/Incense (both cone and stick)/Garage sale record player with no needle

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The divine PB&J in me, salutes the divine PB&J in you.