Once upon a time, when I was a wee lass living in the wilds of Broklyn Heights, one of my friends had a roller skating party. I think her name was Erica, or maybe it was America, or maybe Erica was short for America, no matter. I wasn't a bad little roller skater, and was happliy cruising around the rink when some hotshot asshole in lame short shorts (I might be making that up, but I remember him being shiney) skating backwards at top speed careened into me and knocked us both over. Somehow in the process he hit me in the face and I got a big, fat, bloody lip. I spent the rest of the party sitting with Erica's mom sucking on pudding pops to keep the swelling down.
To preface that story with something like "When I think of pudding pops, this is what I remember" or "Pudding pops are good for keeping down swelling. I know because..." would have damaged it's artistic integrity.
Anyhow, it involves hotpants, a girl named America, and me getting beat up. It would have been a good story even if it had nothing to do with pudding.
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chaosvizier) wrote2003-08-07 10:45 am
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Hmmm, Kate is like pudding though. Soft and gooey, and best when brown!
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Anyhow, it involves hotpants, a girl named America, and me getting beat up. It would have been a good story even if it had nothing to do with pudding.
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But, you're right, it was a good story anyway. Carry on.