I once had a conversation with some other trombonists where they joked about how to give not-really-compliments to other musicians. Example: "It was great to hear you play. I used to sound like that."
I also noticed last night, as I was flipping through a paper at the train station, that write-ups about people are really boring.
(Now watch me bring these two ideas together. Pure genius.)
Here, for your convenience, is a by-no-means exhaustive list of non-boring and questionable things you can say about me in, say, my obituary. I was quite amused by myself as I wrote it on the train ride home, until I got into a conversation with some architecture students.
Holly was blonde most of the time.
She made people laugh, often on purpose.
She was exceptionally intelligent, but she hid it well.
She always thought of herself as a great writer.
Whenever she played her trombone, we were happy at the end.
If true beauty lies within, Holly was the deepest, truest beauty we knew.
Animals loved her as if she were one of their own.
We didn't trust her any farther than we could throw her, but that's not so bad because one night we discovered we could actually throw her really far.
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2 comments:
How ‘bout:
“Holly’s smart, she does her laundry on Saturday nights when everyone else is out.”
“Holly’s wardrobe suits her perfectly, you know she spends a lot of time in front of her computer.”
Don’t be mad at me I only know what I read; but if you ever go, the laundromat is a great place to meet someone route, you may want to wash someone else’s clothes. :)
Ha! Nice.
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