I’m gonna go to Chinatown and buy a box full of turtles (for eatin’) from some cruel Chinese man in an apron who can down a Marlboro red in two pulls. He’s gonna look at me with one eye real incredulously and he’s gonna say thems turtles for eatin’ and ain’t for no other purpose. I’m gonna take ‘em home in a little terrarium and for all he knows I’m gonna make soup with ‘em or fritters or Korean turtle butter. But when he looks at me, if he looks just hard enough, he’ll recognize I’m weak and I’m just gonna bring those turtles home and dress ‘em up in little Nancy Sinatra costumes and we’re gonna sing “These Boots Are Made for Walkin” a capella. Fuck you, Chinatown.
Im drunk and tired.
