SimonPaper magazine is the new Tiger Beat; soft core young celeb porn for the discerning masses. I've seen a few acquaintances grace the illustrious pages of that futile mag over the years and this morning, thumbing through a copy at the office I happened upon Simon, the perpetually partied out, fuzz guitar playing hipster who moved in downstairs from Claudine, Josef and Attila, not long after the reconstruction. The first week Simon and his friends arrived (among them Krishna) I found them huffing and puffing, unsuccessfully trying to get a massive wood encased tube T.V. up our narrow stairs. The box must have been at least 60 inches across. I pulled out Julie Jo's jigsaw and cut a chunk out of the wall, giving them the precious breathing space to get that boob tube into their apartment. Three weeks later it was deposited on the back porch, left for dead after burning out. I can't wait to get home and tell Claudine about Simon the rock star as she was continually complaining about the "horrible" caterwaul that perpetually wafted up from the apartment beneath her. I hope Simon's fifteen minutes is longer than most though. He is one of us, after all.
2 comments:
classic that you still have julie jo's jigsaw. that was for the hnfb v.1 sign. funny.
In the end, I offered that thing back to JJ, but she never bit. Apparently, she'd moved on to a better jigsaw. The hussy.
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