April

I've spent the last few days learning how to sew with my mother, fixing all the things I ruined. The first project I attempted was an extreme hem job on a soft leather dress with large shoulder pads. Rook-mistake, but I badassed it. Her cat has a cone on its head & keeps running into the corner of things. Tonight we had au jus on thick sourdough hoagies with amish swiss and deli slabs of roast beef. We set the food between us on the bed & watched the bad tv of my choice. Conehead came to lay across my lap, but then had an attitude problem and ran away; I saw that his fat pouch tickled the carpet. Mother said she's been engaged for a long time now, which I didn't know about, which is funny: Okay keep your little secret weirdo. We imagined designing clothes together, more like underwear. Now I've got to do that. But I think I need like a soft, gelatinous mannequin ass, with cellulite even, so I can really sculpt the fabric across the ass like a genius, like I've got to find a way to make some pretty sick underwear. I can see my life now: erotic haiku-editor-underwear designer-half marathoner. First step: establish.