Sio Sandra Jaya, Salmon and Wood Stump
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Kendall Aufmuth
Amy has a TV head. When she turns around too quickly, she falls over.
She doesn’t own a TV stand.
Every night, the Gilmore Girls theme song puts her to sleep.
She has difficulties with looking in mirrors.
Commercial breaks interrupt her dreams, pissing her off.
After her high school prom, Samantha Baker tried taking her dress off, but couldn’t get it over her head.
She likes to sneak into window displays to let passersby watch her thoughts.
At dinner parties she’s the life of the party.
On a two-week vacation, she took 5 tequila shots through her IV because it was better through the veins.
She despises Thanksgiving because of the parade.
Sometimes, her TV head is uncomfortable on her shoulders, keeping her weighted down. It’s her thoughts that are slowly fading away, changing channels.
She avoids hat stores.
She’s too cold to hug.
When it rains, she stays inside and watches her reflection.
It would be inappropriate for anyone to assume she wants a high-def upgrade.
Little boys like sticking pink gum to her antennas when she’s sitting outside on her favorite park bench. She rises and kicks them in the shins. This is why it’s her favorite bench.
To her, a DVR is a diary of memories.
She has issues with being labeled as a distraction.
She fell in love with an American man named Logan, and he loved her just the same, but could never figure out how to kiss her, so he watched her in the black and white.
She will die at 88, and will have several lilacs placed on her gravestone with a note that says, “I’m sorry. I hope they have cable and lavender grey snowflakes where you’re going.”
Kendall Aufmuth
Amy has a TV head. When she turns around too quickly, she falls over.
She doesn’t own a TV stand.
Every night, the Gilmore Girls theme song puts her to sleep.
She has difficulties with looking in mirrors.
Commercial breaks interrupt her dreams, pissing her off.
After her high school prom, Samantha Baker tried taking her dress off, but couldn’t get it over her head.
She likes to sneak into window displays to let passersby watch her thoughts.
At dinner parties she’s the life of the party.
On a two-week vacation, she took 5 tequila shots through her IV because it was better through the veins.
She despises Thanksgiving because of the parade.
Sometimes, her TV head is uncomfortable on her shoulders, keeping her weighted down. It’s her thoughts that are slowly fading away, changing channels.
She avoids hat stores.
She’s too cold to hug.
When it rains, she stays inside and watches her reflection.
It would be inappropriate for anyone to assume she wants a high-def upgrade.
Little boys like sticking pink gum to her antennas when she’s sitting outside on her favorite park bench. She rises and kicks them in the shins. This is why it’s her favorite bench.
To her, a DVR is a diary of memories.
She has issues with being labeled as a distraction.
She fell in love with an American man named Logan, and he loved her just the same, but could never figure out how to kiss her, so he watched her in the black and white.
She will die at 88, and will have several lilacs placed on her gravestone with a note that says, “I’m sorry. I hope they have cable and lavender grey snowflakes where you’re going.”