Rachel Pattycake Bell reads “HYFR” by Drake.
Here’s what Google Voice thought she said:
Hi Adam, Rachel. Patty hotel. And I’m going to the site. The Paul, H, Why, Yes, our bye trait featuring little wine hey. ON mon. All My ex is we’re gonna Texas like George Strait, or they go to. Georgia State, way tuition channel to someone in need of that live in Atlanta that she only see when she feels obligated, and I did it to me. The first time we dated, that she was not Angelyn we know waited. I took a for sushi. She wanted to suite at the to go with. Holme. Don’t even played it. And we have a talk so much after I blew up to Stoneleigh, Hello Laura, Happy belated. That’s my texture and told her I made an announcement. She text me and told me, she prayed and that’s my text on told her I lover, then right after texture and told around. They did she asks, what the length. It’s getting richer Island working with And I did it tonight for better pictures. I went and the reason I had to steal one hell of a mixture. Even though up girl. I’m still which is damps install cos we’ve is the test. These women involved as I was to drop those, but they’re involved the story to tell we’ve been through it all, damn. And if you’d like confessions gift of talk about my dressing room confusing me with questions like to this. Are you had a right now. Did you ever get nervous. Are you single. I heard you. You curly the true, you can and I’m on the Thank in the evening. If you wish to speak to you And I say, Hell yeah hell yeah. Hell Yeah, tonight. Right down right hell yeah. Hell yeah. Yet, right damn right. I’ll write so much for being optimistic. They say love is in the air, so I had told not to come and see if you’re we’ll keep you at the kids and i Circle, 9 Okay liking perfect for you because Kuwait and I will serve I can check to you for the commercial, but we still net. Later that night after my session. She came over. I would request and she was still going to be for her too. She started comparisons start 100 and then I You know holder and so I did was I was last month Nash’s text me asking for closure, damn. They say that she’s going to catch up to me. I keep tissue paper leave each other whenever. We, at the dinner table She says she hates you love me and she was. We’ll. And the. Sometimes I was just saying, but I was. She was married Yeah, I hope and have a break them, Medicine emailed a test. Bye our conversation. But. And of user like compassion it go out my bed room, computer, new questions, Mike. Do you loved. A. Are you have a right now. You have a good nervous. Are you single. I heard you’ve a cute girl. Is that true. You get them.
“i’ll write so much for being optimistic” seems like a hilarious mistranslation
My friend Robert comes over and lays naked on my couch. I start filming. I leave the camera on for 8 minutes as people walk through my living room. Robert stays naked on my green couch, the green couch that my parents bought when they got married. Later I will lose my cellphone in the couch cushions and, digging for it, find a sock that I wore before cellphones were invented. It is now a sock that fits three of my fingers.
I upload the video to youtube with a filter that hides Robert’s nudity. I go to a hotel that I refer to, in my mind, as a “bourgeois-ass hotel” and there are fat middle schoolers doing gang signs in the hotel bar. They tweet at me that they loved my work on youtube, that it reminds them of Harmony Korine, that they are in a class he teaches at their middle school. I tweet back pictures of them doing gang signs in the “bourgeois-ass hotel” and they are thrilled to be in the same building as me. They show me pictures of themselves and Harmony. Harmony is actually Robert Downey Jr.
I remember that if I go upstairs, the hotel turns into my mom’s house. I go to my room. I lay down on the box spring where my twin bed used to be. I go downstairs and out the door to the garage, because the hotel is gone and I am now in my mom’s house. It is summer and Kofi, the Chesapeake Bay Retriever, is outside barking. Everything is green, except for the bright blue FJ Cruiser that I have just remembered is mine. I bought it because I have lots of money now, since my youtube fame among gang sign-throwing middle schoolers has developed. I get inside of my FJ Cruiser. I have barely enough room to sit in it but I can now drive over anything in the world, including an IED, and I will be fine.
I get out of the bright blue FJ Cruiser. I remove the wheels and axles and press a button to deflate it. It is now folded neatly into something the size of a pillow. I go inside. My aunt lets me borrow her hair gel and tries to tell me that I am “doing it wrong.” She says, “trust me, I have been using this gel my whole life!!!” and I say, “Okay well I have had this hair my whole life mostly too so thanks.”
My hair is now perfectly curly. I go to the garage to inflate my vehicle and the backyard is very muddy. Thankfully, I realize that I am wearing waders, and I make to the garage just fine. My friend Daniel is there. I have known him since second grade, when all he had was a bowlcut and unrequited love for me. I attempt to inflate my FJ Cruiser but I do it wrong. It instead inflates into a dirty-ass Chrysler Sebring and I think, “ew.” Daniel shows me how to inflate my car correctly and it is back to FJ Cruiser status. Swag status.
I hop in. I pick Austin Islam up from Texas and we go back to Indianapolis to visit my highschool. The drive takes about 20 minutes. Before exiting the car I use some silver glitter glue to draw a star on my face. I walk through my highschool where I am now famous. Everyone who sees me is thrilled and everything I say is golden, resulting in peals of laughter. I get an ice cream sandwich from the ice cream machine and I get a smack on the ass from the hoodlums in the lunch room. Austin is impressed, understandably. Walking through the hallways of my old highschool is much like walking on an endless red carpet and/or a layer of adoration.
None of this has actually happened, but some of it would be nice. A common side effect of Cymbalta is “abnormal dreams”
poems i have written inside your bed - rachel pattycake
As a child Rachel played pattycake with the baker’s man. Now Rachel plays pattycake with something more, with hearts. Internet dwellers across the world have fallen in love with the sheer illustrious beauty that radiates from Rachel’s surefire smile, her luscious long locks of her, and her sense of confidence. Resistance of Rachel Pattycake’s charm is futile. Everybody’s got to succumb sometimes. Rachel has the lighting and the music. Rachel knows how to set the mood. Of course the internet is going to adore her work.
St. Vincent plays in the background giving the poem a sensual aura. This is for those unable to be charmed by her mere words. Rachel watches someone remove their watch. Upon the removal of the watch time gives up. For such a tender moment how can time possibly do it justice? It can’t. Hence the watch politely requests to be let off the hand. Whoever the mysterious figure is decides to comply. Love is in the air between them. Propane bleeds out of Rachel’s mouth. Now it becomes clear who the mysterious figure is: Hank Hill. Experiencing propane is what Hank Hill does best. With Rachel propane is divine, for cooking, but a special kind of cooking. It involves eggplant.
Rachel creates a special person. Guns are ablaze. This is due to the extreme passion. Guns are a metaphor for loving. A-frame houses are perfect for Rachel. Craigslist gives Rachel hope. Millions find hope on Craigslist every day, whether it is a home, a used futon, or free thirty year old magazines. Everything is the same. Everything is useless. People are what matter anyway.
Out of nowhere Rachel Pattycake plays lighthouse. Things were foggy allegedly. Few have this distinct ability to transform from person into a physical structure. Light provides hope. With Rachel’s radiant energy guiding Hank Hill’s ship to shore, she guarantees to hook him up with the sweet deliciousness of propane. Hank Hill wants it; he wants the propane so badly. Deep in the pitch black night with only the light from Rachel’s hair guiding him Hank says ‘Yep’ in a strong Texan drawl. Blinking light makes Hank a firefly trying to find that special someone. Unlike fireflies though who are essentially doomed due to an extreme gender imbalance, Hank Hill is lucky to have someone as special as Rachel.
Things will be shown. Lincoln’s Ford Theater sounds particularly grand, particularly the whole ‘fucking’ thing. Generations ago a man was fucked in the Ford Theater in a dramatically different way than what Rachel suggests. By the end Rachel connects with the viewer, with potential future lovers by simply staring intensely into the camera.
beach sloth makes me feel good, yes yes yes
welp i made this
amy lee man, bring me to life
i submitted like eight things here HEH HEH HEH
its just cops + pigs
this is a part of what may become a series
let me read you a bedtime story
i have never had anything as good as you
i will have you for the rest of my life
if you
will have me
