Dear Roborooter.

I am at sarah’s. She is cool, and my girlfriend. She loves me. And wine. but maybe not as much as I love wine.

Tee-hehe

(that’s sarah’s laugh)

We just spend some time reading her old diaries from 1992, she says lots about herself from back then. Bad speller, angsty, named her diary chi-chi. It’s interesting. I used to write stories about kids who had aliens kill them and then the ambulance would come and the doctors would bring them back to life. But sometimes the kids couldn’t come back and the parents would be sad. I must have been like.. 4 or 5 years old.

They’d have me write a book in preeschool, now I don’t remember it too well. but they would have me tell a story and they’d write it down, and I’d draw pictures and then write the story back in the book. It would be a blank hard cover.

(Sarah just brought up a great book called “Cloudy with a chance of meatballs” man I love that)

umm, dr Seuss is cool

ok that’s enough of this blast from the past roborooter diary inspired by a 8 year old sarah. Good night.

-Francis

PS little sarah liked hotdogs

I don’t want to do it anymore.

Take 12 people, and ask them a personal question. Let them answer from the heart. Let them really get into it. Now spend the next 10-14 hours in a room (eat all your meals together, and don’t talk when someone leaves the room) and argue that they are wrong.

If you can’t convince them, start again tomorrow at 9:30, and to sweeten the deal have some people that are probably dangerous hang out in front of the building you’re in and take the train with you home.

It’s been three weeks, this is really getting to me.