how jo moved my mom to eloquence (yeah, handi boy's dad)

i was walking home and decided to listen to an album, initials ee by band that starts with w. let me tell you, i was a big blubbering burdened baby. i cried the whole way home for various reasons and though that album might not be a sad one, necessarily, i was semi sad and passing fake grass on people's lawns (you can tell because its perfectly green and uniformly even and looks like it has diamonds in it when the sun is out) and that fake grass made me decide that i like tradition, i LOVE tradition. thus, for my birthday, which i am disappointed falls on a saturday, i want to listen to that album, and the going there song, while driving to monrovia and there i am going to the TOP! the one i've never been to because i always give up. i am going to get sweaty so you are obligated to let me take a shower in your shower, i'll bring my own towel then we will go to corner bakery to get salads and sit in one of the little booths and then we can smoke a whole pack of cigs somewhere. you dont have to go to monrovia, i dont mind going there alone because you have to clean. i want to do it in the morning.
one more thing: i looked down and nico was getting ready to pounce, staring straight into her own eyes in the mirror. she did pounce, and hit the mirror sideways because she turned in time.