I bought Bartleby, lalalalalalala, at Borders for less than twenty dollars, lalalalalalala. Crispin is adorable, lalalalalalala. But if I write Bartleby!abuse fic, would someone please shoot me? LALALALALALALA.
Seeing how that was, of course, the first image to enter my mind at the end of the movie. Oooooh, little child Bartleby... "I would prefer not to." Now I really need a t-shirt that says that. "'You will not?' 'I would prefer not.'"
I'm still working my way through the short story. Is hard. My eyeballs hurt. WHY IS THERE NO FOOD IN THIS STUPID HOUSE????
Job sucks. SATURDAY. MUST REMEMBER TO BRING CRISPIN PICTURE TO GET PRETTY T-SHIRT MADE.
Haha, Joe tried to upset me by telling me Crispin was gay. This, of course, is the wrong course of action to take with me. "No, he's not." "Yes, he is." "Do you know how happy I'd be if he really was gay? Besides... he's dating a Penthouse model." "... oh. Nevermind then." Yeah, foo'. I learned you. NOW YOU MUST DRAW HIM FOR ME! (Because a Joe Bluhm styled Crispin would look fantastique on my wall.)