(no subject)

[labrujah]

My main girl Emily is guarding our yard sale out on Bedford & S.1st this moment while I nurse my sunburn inside. People are so funny at the yard sale, like "Um, does this fit me? My torso is too short for this," etc. And I am like "Give me a dollar, it's great."

The other thing about yard sales is you have to put out all your old shit you are now more or less embarrassed by. On display, and then you sit in the middle of it, with your shame. Yes, that is my stained bra with a tribal tattoo design on it. It is fifty cents. Now please forget you ever met me.

Also, there is a semi-retarded guy who might just always be drunk, who followed me from Metropolitan to N. 6th the other day, wanting to know if I thought he was a sweetheart, etc. I was like "Dude, speaking to women on the street who are trying to walk away from you is not the way to their affections. It is creepy. This is your special tip from me." Anyhow he must live nearby, because he came by to the yard sale and insisted on trying on some of my clothes (yeah, yum) and conversing further on the topic of whether I have a boyfriend or whether if he brought me thrift store clothes from around the world, if I would be his girlfriend.

Comments

[sissychrissy1.livejournal.com]

Oooh, a real winner, don't forget to get his telephone number next time you see him!

[labrujah.livejournal.com]

It's actually not a bad tactic to make me your girlfriend, to bring me thrift store clothes from around the world.