King of the phony-haters. (via Wikipedia)
IF YOU REALLY want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is why I decided to do Dance Marathon, how I got to Northwestern, and what the lousy Subway sandwich I ate right before Block 1 started was like, and all that Morty Schapiro kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, because, in the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, I’ve been up for about forty hours straight and I feel like hell, like absolute hell. I’m not kidding.
Where I want to start telling is the moment I walked into Norris, which is this old crumby building that’s by this goddamn lake, which is right next to an even bigger goddamn lake. I felt kind of cold, so I decided to put on my red hunting hat, because I get cold really easy. It’s true. I’m seventeen goddamn years old, and I get the shivers and aches and goddamn pneumonia every goddamn month, for chrissake.
Anyway, they took us to this room and all, and all of these kids – and this just killed me – Continue reading
Sherman Ave 