* it's too hot to type. but never too hot for Friday Night Writes, this is my therapy.
* writing is cheaper than therapy. and more meaningful.
* artist: why did you step into this shop?
girl: the Virgin Mary appeared to me here.
* girl: why did you darken my doorway?
girl: i just saw the Illuminati Eye.
artist: no that's just a Zelda symbol.
* artist: is this your first tattoo?
girl: yes. i have a back tat but that doesn't count, all girls have a back tat.
* girl: what's with the tape?
artist: sorry, ran out of duct.
* girl: black ink?
* girl: why are you wearing special glasses? you need them to tattoo?
artist: need them to see.
* girl: *deep breath* okay well at least it's not a real silver gun like the cool girls were telling me, it's a silver math compass.
* girl: what's that horrible buzzing sound?
artist: the voices in my head competing for attention.
* artist: hey we both wear Vans shoes! that should connect us.
girl: YOU FILTHY LIAR!!! THIS HURTS LIKE FUCK!!!
* artist: wait you got this off a greeting card?
girl: yes, this is a Hallmark commercial.
artist: you're shitting me. Hallmark didn't go out of business after emails?
* artist: wait let me take a look at that card...that's not your mom's signature, i forged it.
girl: what? how?
artist: got a lot of practice with the checks. i'm your dad.
girl: i thought Seth MacFarlane was my dad.
* artist: what's your name?
artist: it's actually Jane.
CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK
happy weekend, my babies. remember: GET THE HELL OUTTA DODGE!!! that's just good advice generally.