There’s a flea on the fly on the frog on the bump on the log on the hole in the bottom of the sea
I just got back from the airport, where I said goodbye to ku nkiko. She is on her way back to California and even though I’ll be there in three short weeks, I cried most of the way home. The apartment already seems less colorful and more boring.
On the way home I heard a Stephen (Steven?) Lynch song and despite how absolutely offensive he can be sometimes, I still laugh when I hear him sing. This song was about how he doesn’t like white girls. “I’m not a racist/some of my best friends are white” is my favorite line.
I’m going to play the Sims for a bit and then mope around the apartment some more.