Every teen trick-or-treating tonight got a handful of candy and a, “You must be heartbroken. I can’t believe Justin Bieber died so young!”
A couple approaches on the beach. He calls her “Allison.” I write, “Marry me, Allison,” in the sand and hide. And now we wait.
Find a group doing river baptisms. Release LSD into the water upstream. Bring friends in devil costumes. Cavort and frolic on the riverbank.
You know that scene in 8 Mile where Eminem disses himself so the other guy has nothing to rap about? That’s basically my only plan in life.