Exhibit 25.7

Kids

I live by a park where I walk Brett and since the weather here got nice--by which I mean terrible--there have been a lot of kids doing kid things to the endless soundtrack of ice cream truck melodies. Usually it's just riding bikes or playing soccer, but today there were boys doing both of those things and yelling insults at each other. I can understand this and was maybe even a little impressed by their multi-tasking.

What I cannot understand is this exchange I heard between two who were maybe 11 or 12.

Kid 1: You're a pedophile, Josh.
Josh: O yeah, well you need love to grow.

Kid 1's comment, while an odd thing to say to a fellow child, at least made sense given the context of bikes/soccer/insults. Josh, however, went way off book and won the day by giving us all something to think about.

Exhibit 22.18

Words I Have Used in This Seminar Paper I Either Don't Know or Don't Want to Know the Meaning Of

Hegemony
Enlightenment
Atemporality
Dialectical
Love
Pastiche
Pectoral
Nouveau roman
Cannon
Canon
Interiority
Surfiction
Quasi-allegorical
Antecedents

I'm just kidding. I know the meaning of love:

Exhibit 22.16

A Complete Psychological Portrait of the Woman Who Lived in My Apartment at Least Two Tenants Ago but Whose Junk Mail Still Gets Delivered Here

Likes to Make Things but Not on Sunday


Works in Photography and/or Enjoys Professional-Grade Tripods


Enthusiastic College Donor, Banner Aficionado


Has a God


Wears Lane Bryant Clothes, Poses Oddly in Them


Appreciates Her God's Mail-Order Jewelry Company


Is Presumably Sad She Is Not Getting Her Mail

I can't even write her a letter and admit my feelings because it would just get delivered back to me along with some other guy's Amnesty International address labels and my own, um, Amnesty International address labels.

This one's for you, Lisa Tuggs formerly of Lawrence St.:

True love waits, Lisa Tuggs. True love waits.

Exhibit 22.11

Postcard to Houston



Dear Houston,

Here, no one says I love you. They say I hope you're the one I'm talking to on my cellphone when I die on the freeway.

I hope you're the one I'm talking to on my cellphone when I die on the freeway,

A.

Exhibit 21.16

Things I Learned While Walking the Dog

1. There is apparently a high school right on my street and no more than 30 yards from my door. I guess it's a charter school of about 250 students and not the area's big public school (Reagan High). Note: Reagan High School is--shockingly--not named after Ronald Reagan. Cheers for Texas. Sadly, it's named after a prominent Confederate and was not desegregated until 1970. Double boo for Texas.

2. The park at the end of my street is called Love Park. I find this to be an admirably progressive name for a park. That said, most of the people at night seem to congregate in Flash Your Headlights Twice Park on the other end of the street. Note: Flash Your Headlights Twice Park is not named after a prominent Confederate. Cheers for Texas.

3. It is apparently illegal to build more than 24 consecutive feet of sidewalk on one side of the street. After one side's 24 feet are up, the other side of the street gets its turn. Boo for Texas.

4. Love Park is exempt from that law and, I'm guessing, most others. Wash for Texas.

5. Everything here needs to be smelled for 65 seconds to be fully appreciated. Cheers for Texas.

Exhibit 20.24

Craigslist Transaction



When I got the first email, I didn't know if this guy was being aggressive enough in his quest to buy my bike. Then, five minutes later, the second email came. While more aggressive, this still seemed to be sub-optimal in its aggressiveness and clarity. That's when I realized he didn't want a bike, he only wanted to be friends with sale-rjwzk-130546842@craigslist.org.

That's when I realized he wasn't using verbs because the only verb he knew was "love."

Exhibit 14.23

I've read a fair amount about the Somali pirates but don't really understand the issues well enough to tell you how I should feel. I can only tell you how I do feel:

I love the Somali pirates.