I tell my roommate that one day I’ll invent a body-switching machine. For a day, I’ll have his body, and he’ll have mine. I’ll be blessed with holistic sanctity, and he’ll be writhing on the floor, crying like an infant because he’s literally suffocating.
Excerpt from the wholly unfunny column I turned in for class. I wonder what I got on it.
December 16, 2011, 11:01pm
