jueves, 4 de junio de 2009

Everyone I Went to High School With Is Dead

There's a platypus in my backyard, his name is Perry. He likes fudge and cold chili. Perry's very fond of my leg, and he's always trying to prunt it. He was born in Chunchuhue, he told me. I love to take him out for a walk, but he keeps prunting the floor and poking people who aren't aware with an egg. He likes watching ducks, but he has never done it. I believe he's 3 years old because he hasn't told me otherwise. His family was roadkilled last year, we knew it on the news. The driver called us the next day and apologized saying "¿What the hell was that?". I was sad but Perry didn't mind. I'm afraid he's repressing his pain because he often stops breathing and shakes. He's not a superspy, I've never seen him wearing a tuxedo, or pants. He believes he's married to my cushion and he prunts it every day. He's not that confident of it, or else he wouldn't prunt my leg. Perry loves music. He owns a salt iPod, and he keeps licking it, even though the instructions specifically states it should not be set in contact with sugar, water, air, fire and platypus tongues. He listen to proggressive Australian heavy rock. Bands like the Platys and Beaverduck, but they're not very known and 5 people have become yellow at the moment they heard proggressive Australian heavy rock, commonly known as platypus music. We've lived together with me since I imaginated him. I love him.

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