My sister called me tonight to tell me that while she isn’t a member of either of my Facebook fan clubs, she wants me to know that she’s my biggest fan. “I’m sorry, who is this again?” I asked. She tried to answer but it was hard to hear her over my yelling “you’re dead to me” and then admonishing my handlers for even putting the call through. It’s so tough to find good handlers these days. “Don’t handle me like that!” I’ll yell, when they’re manhandling my affairs. “Alison Rosen wishes to be left alone!” I’ll announce to my empty apartment, ordering my furniture into the street. “That includes you, futon!” I’ll declare, even though I don’t have a futon. I don’t even want to tell you what I say to my bean bag chair. It verges on obscene.
In other news I made coffee today with a French press because I have one and never use it. Then I pressed fresh flowers in it (Freesia and dandelion) and then I pressed my luck with it and then I pressed two dress shirts and a small run of bibles.
Then I took a nap.
I realize that your sister is a Super Action Hero and her real identity can’t be revealed but are you twins? Just say yes…please!
I was thinking about this, and I think Alison’s sister must be very intelligent, and probably already married. Why would anyone in their right mind want to be famous is beyond my capacity of understanding. I’d never pursue fame. I am a person who loves his privacy, and to have strangers always intruding on that freedom of anonymity would upset me.
I still think Alison is a cool chick though.
Toddrod
ROFL