real heartfelt illustrated reading

No wonder I couldn't get a girlfriend!

and will you get that guy out of the freakin bathroom

Yesterday I thought I was losing my faith in humanity.  Today I don't.

We heard about what happened to Gloria Trillo in last night's episode of our dream.  In between her last scene, and the last we hear of her on the show, she had a son.  We find out a little more of her sorrow, a little more to the poignancy of her suicide.  Her son was fifteen, thereabouts.  But before there was the most adorable toddler.  A little baby boy.  It was the first time where I was in the room—usually I'm just aware that everybody else wants to be around the boy, that the boy's just around the room.  It was the closest to preciousness, a type of sentence never here attempted, as I remember the sensation of his little baby eyes, and his cheeks were fat and smiling, just naked and with diapers, people were giving him gifts in bags were the gifts and he was going after the gifts but then he had grown bigger and one couple a girl with hair I guess he couldn't get her bag and she was walking away.  You could sense he was hurt, he was Gloria Trillo's kid, and he wasn't supposed to go chasing after the bag because it wasn't some gift for him.  They told him not to, she wouldn't give it to him, you could see him get hurt while they were laughing but there was no gift for him, that he didn't understand, and he jumped onto the back of a green dumptruck because she had tossed a bag and he said he was going to get that bag and he jumped into the bed of the dumptruck.  The metal inside started rotating like a cake mixer after him, bags tossed all over the place, metal, paper, and plastic, like an awkwardly violent windmill, awkward and perfect and mashed into gray.

...whenever I want you, all I have to do

is dre^e^e^e^em