Thursday, August 12, 2010

xxviii

"Whatcha know about Clark? Whatcha know about Clark? Whatcha know about Clark? I know all about Clark!"
-Yellow Camp Clark

I don’t know you. I don’t know you. I don’t know you, either.
Believe it or not, I am not very good in enormous social situations such as this Noah's Ark parade of a mess hall cafeteria. Understandably, it takes me some time to fully feel comfortable around a group of two-hundred strangers before I can make my signature inappropriate quips or open up the personal mind book about my Toy Story childhood and my Cugat-cover favorite book and my unopened action figure collection.
But, four inconceivable years from now, I may know you, I may know you, I hope to know you, and then you will know all about me and my red crayon childhood.
I sincerely hope so.

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