Derek is such a clumsy dork.
He tore a hole in me yesterday. You know that big fat wallet of his that he keeps stuffed with name cards? Yeah well, that stupid fat piece of leather kept scraping against my back pocket whenever Derek sat down.
I swear I tried to hold it together, but with that constant scraping, it was only a matter of time before my threads started to wear and tear. And once there's a slight tear, you know how fast those things grow.
So there you have it. I'm torn. Just slightly torn, but torn nonetheless. And you know what? I don't care. Derek's gonna have to walk around with a tear in his jeans showing off his butt cheek, and THAT IS HIS OWN DAMN FAULT!
As for me, I'm never letting that fat wallet go into my back pocket again. Ever. From now on, he sits up front next to Derek's keys.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Hi, my name is Rico
"Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste"
Or rather, I belong to a man of (some) wealth and (unquestionable) taste. You see, I'm Derek's pair of jeans. No, I'm not just any old pair of jeans. I'm his custom tailored pair of relaxed-fit Seven jeans.
I don't really know how I came to be.
All I remember is a bright light, vague sounds, and suddenly, I realized I had thought and sentience. Very mysterious. Zen, even. Personally, I think Derek willed me into existence on one of those days when he had a little too much espresso, but hey you're welcome to draw your own conclusions.
So what now?
Well, seeing how I accompany Derek on most of his adventures, I'm going to be sneaking you guys the latest and greatest (and not usually authorized) gossip on what goes on in Derek's life. Derek doesn't really know I'm writing this. I think he's working on some technology computer thingy right now as I'm typing this up.
Don't criticize my typing speed. You should try typing with no fingers. Yes, I'm a pair of JEANS for cryin' out loud. Geez, everyone's a critic nowadays.
Anyway as I was saying.... Oops... Derek is coming back. I'll write more later. I vaguely heard Derek saying something about going to Borders to read comics tonight. I'll let you know how it goes later.
Or rather, I belong to a man of (some) wealth and (unquestionable) taste. You see, I'm Derek's pair of jeans. No, I'm not just any old pair of jeans. I'm his custom tailored pair of relaxed-fit Seven jeans.
I don't really know how I came to be.
All I remember is a bright light, vague sounds, and suddenly, I realized I had thought and sentience. Very mysterious. Zen, even. Personally, I think Derek willed me into existence on one of those days when he had a little too much espresso, but hey you're welcome to draw your own conclusions.
So what now?
Well, seeing how I accompany Derek on most of his adventures, I'm going to be sneaking you guys the latest and greatest (and not usually authorized) gossip on what goes on in Derek's life. Derek doesn't really know I'm writing this. I think he's working on some technology computer thingy right now as I'm typing this up.
Don't criticize my typing speed. You should try typing with no fingers. Yes, I'm a pair of JEANS for cryin' out loud. Geez, everyone's a critic nowadays.
Anyway as I was saying.... Oops... Derek is coming back. I'll write more later. I vaguely heard Derek saying something about going to Borders to read comics tonight. I'll let you know how it goes later.
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