She was looking at a book calledCelebrity Breasts 。 I?m serious。 Like; totally choosing which
ones she was going to get。
?tattletail
A:? ? Dear tattle;
That?s all very interesting; but pray tail?I mean tell?why wereyou there?
?GG
As if you weren?t already excited enough 。 。 。
Now that the early admissions thing is over; we can focus on something truly important: Fashion
Week。 It starts this Friday; and all my favorite people will be there; including me。 See you in the
front row!
You know you love me。
gossip girl
scrawny westside poet has first taste of fame
On his way to Riverside Prep Tuesday morning; Dan stopped at the newsstand on Seventy…ninth
and Broadway to buy the Valentine?s Day issue ofThe New Yorker and a large black coffee that
tasted like it had been made three years ago?just the way he liked it。 The cover ofThe New Yorker
was an illustration of Noah?s Ark docked at a pier in New York Harbor; with the Statue of Liberty
looming in the background。 The wordsThe Love Boat were painted on the side of the ark; and all
of the animals lined up to board were holding hands and kissing and groping each other。 It was
pretty funny。 Dan stood on the corner and lit an unfiltered Camel with trembling fingers as he
turned back the cover and searched the table of contents for his poem。 There it was under Poems:
Daniel Humphrey; page forty…two; ?Sluts。? He flipped to it; forgetting all about the burning
cigarette propped between his lips。 Page forty…two happened to be the ninth page of a
fourteen…page story by Gabriel Garcia Rhodes called ?Amor con los Gatos???Love with
Cats??and right there; in the middle of the story; was Dan?s poem。
Wipe the sleep from my eyes and pour me another cup。
I see what you?ve been trying to tell me all along;
Shaving your head and handling me (so delicately)
With satin and lace:
You?re a whore。
It was freezing outside; but nervous sweat beaded on Dan?s eyelids; and his tongue was as dry as
firewood。 Dan spat the burning cigarette out onto the sidewalk and closed the magazine; tucking it
into his black messenger bag。 If he?d turned to the Contributors page; he would have seen the
entry:Daniel Humphrey (Poem; p。 42) is a high…school senior in New York City。 This is his first
published work。 But Dan couldn?t handle looking at the magazine for a moment longer; not when
thousands of people were right now browsing through it and stopping to read his brutal; angry
poem; which he honestly wasn?t sure was any good。 Dan walked down Broadway toward school;
his hands shaking crazily。 If only he could have pulled off som