1. Thursday, November 10, 2005

    dear dirty laundry in my trunk, 

    i know that you want to get out of there and be clean laundry but the mexicans in this hi rise loft are working against me and i knew i shoulda came into work early to beat them at their own game, but alas im slow. i wish i knew what slow was in mexican but i dont.

    how are you laundry? did you have fun in canada? some of you got to go to the great white north with me, so holla to you, but for the others who didnt what can i say, you missed out.

    some clothes are my favorites but they get worn early in the clean clothes cycle and didnt get to make the trip with me because they were already dirty, so sorry. i’ll make it up to you when i go to chicago in two weeks.

    two weeks. my does time fly.

    do you like being my clothes?

    i would imagine you would. i mean youre pretty ugly and cheap and wrinkly and horrible. most of you i got free and i imagine on a regular man you’d be nothing more than workout tshirts or rags to wash their mercedes, but on me youre like my daily shit. you get to go to cool concerts and on hot dates, and if youre lucky you get to see me dance around all tom cruise like after said events as i sing along to bob segar and the silver bullet band.

    oh clothes. do you like it that i never iron you or does that get you depressed?

    its funny i havent been depressed in a long time. knock wood i havent been sick in years. i dont see how thats possible. as you know, now that i have had a car for a few months i eat almost exclusively from drivethrus and dollar chinese joins.

    last night i got some chinese at a donut + chinese place and it smelled so bad that i ate it super quick before i got grossed out. i didnt even spill any on you, clothes, thats how fast i ate that shit.

    and now i smell the mcdonalds breakfast from this morning even though its 2pm. i smell it cuz i never eat my whole serving of hashbrowns cuz the grease just eats away at my large intestines.

    clothes are you happy or sad that i dont work out and get you sweaty? are you happy or sad that girls who sleep over steal you away from me? are you happy or sad that i dont fold you or put you in drawers, but instead stack you in sloppy piles in the closet or keep you in the laundry baskets that i folded you up and put you in after washing and drying your asses.

    do clothes have asses?

    do clothes wish they were something else, like upholstry?

    do clothes have dreams of being turned into something cool and wonderful like AIDS blankets or axl rose scarves or patches in designer jeans?

    do clothes ever want a little jelly spilled on them, or a little blood so they can keep it real?

    is bleach your enemy?

    do you secretly hate the hot water option?

    oh clothes do you deep down wish that i would donate you to good will so you could make a nice poor person warm or an nice hipster super hip and ironic?

    clothes, thanks for costing less than $5 normally.

    formally,

    tonyally

    anna’s enrique to develop extra small condoms + vodka pundit + rockit + snarkette