Que Sera Sera

Head

My old boyfriend and I were emailing back and forth today, and he ended one with, “Also hey what’s a cool gift I could bring back from Tulsa for my friend Nathan who is housesitting? When I went to Mexico I brought him a human skull,” to which I responded, “I cannot even deal with the other things you wrote about in that email right now because all I can think is WE DATED FOR FOUR YEARS AND YOU NEVER GAVE ME A HUMAN SKULL. Diamonds schmiamonds, man! I baked you lemon squares and was forthcoming with the oral and yet NO SKULLS, EVER, NOT EVEN A FAKE ONE.”

The upside of this revelation is that now I know what I want for my birthday.

(I would prefer it to be from a horse thief who was hanged and then John Wilkes Booth’s dad cut off the head and took the head home and boiled the flesh off of it and then used that skull everytime he played Hamlet, but I’m not picky.)*

*Totally true story!

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