“I’m sick of my own words,”
I told my boyfriend

“Look,” I said, “I’ll read you some of these
ads from girls on meetme.com

‘I’m an old soul
I like music
I like to dance
I like to read
in my free time
I have 3 cats
I can be sarcastic
pretty frequently’

Do you like her?”

“No,” he said

“Okay, here’s another

‘If you like Pina Coladas,
and getting caught
in the rain’”

“No,”
he said

“Wait. Here’s one

‘I thought I’d try this
online dating thing

One of my favorite things to do
is to go snowboarding in the
winter!’”

“Look,” he said,
“just read me the ones from the
hottest looking bitches”

“I was doing that,” I said

“Well, then, read me the ones
from the bitches who look like
they like to fuck”

“What’s the difference?” I said

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “Come
over here”

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picture credit:  Alan Couch  via Flickr

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Julia Schott is affiliated with several universities, which means she sometimes uses their buildings or benches to sleep at night. She is usually homeless. She often writes poems about the imagined lives of the rich, stupid undergrads who scurry past her in the mornings.

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