Is This The Right Font?

In exchange for $130 the gay boy I have a
crush on got a giant, blue neon sign that reads TERROR. Fifty
dollars profit. I was way in over
my head. A loose acquaintance is now on
their way to drop off their freshly extracted
wisdom teeth. I should start a poem with those lines. This will make
one out of four teeth drop offs complete. My dog’s tail knocked Sara
onto my unvacuumed rug again and
she was swiftly decapitated for the second time. 7 half used bottles of
super glue, I am not worried. I sent Lucy a mug named Lucy that was oddly
shaped like a woman in a fur coat that gave her the appearance
of hairy arms. A relative of Sara. When she arrived
damaged we agreed
that she wouldn’t be moving to Brooklyn if she wasn’t broken
anyway. Every person trying
to date me is trying to ruin it with sex. Did you know finches
are monogamous? I am carefully
wrapping a miniature
iPod that looks like it is playing a
Taylor Swift song to ship to a friend in Denver. Among it will be
various green items like the ceramic
woman in the green floor length dress that I said
was her new mom. I have met
her boyfriend. She hasn’t. Two summers ago he could hear
my laugh from the bathroom and thanked me. I am too
busy to be upset.

Corie Johnson is a writer, comedian and maker of very many earrings and ridiculously small books. Not only does Corie reside in Los Angeles, she is also young, cool, and would like you to know that.