I am not cool.
I haven't the foggiest idea about the newest hippest indie rock that the kids are talking about.
I don't play the guitar.
I don't have a new car.
I don't have a fancy I.T. job.
I know there's still hope of being cool even without those things, but here's the real telling factor -- the inbox of my text messages.
Some of you have posted the contents of your inbox, which indicate that you and your friends are doing really cool stuff. Brace yourself to be utterly bored by the contents of my inbox
- Roy did it!
- Dude? What's up?
- Call if u r up
- What's up?
- Be there in a few
- U @ work?
- U @ work? Call me
- If you kickin it later on, holla! I owe u some beer
- When I get back from vacation, let's start a Sunday wiffle ball league
- Halftime 0-0
- 1-0! US!!!
- 2-0! Beasley drills it! 60 min
- Usa! Usa! Its final. We qualify!
- Dude! I gotta close!
- Fuck off u rump ranger
- I'll call you when I wake up around three. Want to plan on getting here at 430 or 5ish?
- I'm sorry bout sat night. there was a change in plans and i didn't have your no. in my phone. I'm wicked sorry
- Omega Mu
- Game time
- Dear god. fucking bauhaus is playing in my town on tuesday.
- gd, you ain't lying.
See! Nothing ever happens on Mars.
My Bloody Valentine Loveless