(no subject)

[yuppie-trash.livejournal.com]

Minimalist attempt at entry.

Man. Suit. New York Times. Booth. J&B, rocks.

Humming.

(I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts
There they are all standing in a row
Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head
Give them a twist a flick of the wrist
That’s what the showman said )

Comments

[wits-intact.livejournal.com]

The management takes no responsibility for the whitetext, nor is willing to admit it is the motive behind this tag.

But Nicole will accept responsibility for calmly and without remorse (as if she's ever felt remorse, but she doesn't even feel the slightest bit rude) taking the other half of the booth for herself.

She's still reading Prescription Medicide, and this time, also drinking wine.

Of course she also pretends -- teasingly, because when she reallypretends, you can tell -- that she isn't noticing him.

She's not humming anything, either.

[sir-apropos.livejournal.com]

I remember looking like that, as if I ruled the world. In truth, I very nearly did. A dream very well might be a wish your heart makes, but I could tell you from very pleasant experience that the wallet tends to make it come true. If any believing had anything to do with it, it was a strong belief that people are idiots and that they'll pay for anything that would make their lives even a little more cheery.

Up to and including an animated rodent in shortpants.

That being said, I didn't look as if I ruled the world anymore (and really, the job is far more taxing than it looks; I've done it twice now and it's highly overrated), but I was doing well enough. Thus I can't help the smirk that curls on my face at the singing Suit as I start in on my lunch.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

Man. Jerkin and breeches. Wandering past and then, attracted to the humming because it's been a boring day, sliding into the booth opposite.

[beyond-therest.livejournal.com]

I stare at the newspaper, unaware of who is behing it. I used to get the New York Times for free. Guess they delivered it to the wrong apartment. I never bothered to find out whose it was, I used the paper for painting projects, and one day they just stopped coming.

[mnt_mike]

What's this descending on his perfectly styled head from above? Could it be... yes, it is. It's a pair of black plastic Mickey Mouse ears. And a certain ex-turtle is behind him, singing softly.

"Climb into my Winnebago
And if you help with the gas
Then we maybe can finagle
You five or six day pass
May your afterlife be blessed
Just American Express it
Let Mastercard and Visa set you free-eee-eee..."

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*Quietly, Thom slides into the seat across from Patrick without really asking (or asking at all, in fact) and sits there.

Watching.*