My mom made all these cool sand centerpieces for our wedding. They looked so good, we kept like all of em for the past 4 years, scattered hither and tharn about the house. They have, alas, deteriorated. The still looked good in our minds, but they were starting to look pretty shitty, and we were aggressively cleaning in preparation for listing the house.

Nothing is wasted, there was a potential 20 minutes of entertainment here. thank you Cecile, x2.

When I was in college I was in a comedy troup called Spray Paint, and one of our guys came up with this idea for an “epic poem” written entirely in gibberish, to be acted out on stage by non-speaking players, while he recited it. We made 2 entirely different stories for 2 different shows.

So along those lines, I wrote this story entirely with emoticons.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This whole story could be told with emoticons.

I woke up this morning in the extra bedroom.

I was not sure how I got there.

I was pretty drunk when I went to bed.

But not that drunk.

This mystery nagged at me.

Really.

After about 2 hrs of dwelling on it,

and discussing with Kila during our ride to Phon D

I remembered!

At some point, I woke up with Genevieve’s big giant melon head on top of my head.

Later, I woke up with Genevieve’s big giant melon head cutting off circulation to my brachial artery

My arm was too numb to heave her off, it was a coyote ugly situation.

I slunk away quietly.

G never stirred.