So much drama in the LBC - 06.23.02 - 11:32 pm
Look!

My Library Beef Cake aka LBC showed up today. (I don't think I ever explained where I got that acronym from, huh? Well, now you know. And you're all better people because of it.) His age is still a mystery, so I asked my Way Cool Co-Worker to help me.

"When he leaves," I said. "Look at him and tell me his age, OK? Tell me he's not thirty." She said sure, just point him out.

When he walked by again, I was twenty feet away from WCCW and checking out a family of five. So I had to find a way to point him out w/out making a scene and causing him to, you know, think I'm a freak. So I said, and I quote, "Yo, WCCW! Psst!" and jerk my head in LBC's direction.

LBC looked at me, WCCW went 'huh?' and Family of Five seemed panic-stricken.

Smoooth is my middle name, baby.

WCCW didn't even see him, either.

You know, this story was much funnier in my head.

Anyway, I don't know why it matters how old he is. Besides age ain't bein' nuthin' but a number, I'm never going to talk to the foxy boy. Never ever. I'm a complete ditz when it comes to boys. I mean, most of the time, I just let my mouth run and whatever pops out, pops out. Thinking before speaking? Huh?

I'm sorry. I've already been through this before. Molly likes Boy, Molly wants Boy to like her. Molly hopes she can be Cool, Witty Molly but instead rambles for an hour about her duck eating palmetto bugs while blatantly adjusting her bra cuz goddamn, this thing should be illegal.

True story, by the way.

Edited for something very important: Happy fucking Birthday, Mary! And you know what? Your twenty-five years of life out-rad about 97% of the populations. And I know that the next twenty-five and the twenty-five following that will be even cooler. Yes, I am aware that adds up to 125.

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