a compendium of claptrap

This is the transcript of an actual email sent between me, my mother and my sister:

I wrote:
I have an appointment tomorrow for an MRI because my doctor says I am showing symptoms of a growth in the spendulla shoplongata section of my brain. The symptoms include buying a new pair of boots and shoes, neither of which were on sale. The doctor I spoke with said that the growth was probably not malignant, and was most likely due to the recent increase in my brain activity.

My mother wrote:
Dr. Gortha says you are suffering from idiopathic fiscal hypermania, a common condition resulting from your gene pool. Don't waste your money on an MRI. Think of how many more boots and shoes that could buy!

My sister wrote:
I'm sorry but I'm not sure what "not on sale" means...
------------------------
Last night I skipped the halloween parade (that apparently 1/8 of New York actually went to), and instead had sushi with Andrea. On our way out the door, we noticed a tray of jelly bellies, which, as you already know, are one of my favorite candies of all time. I was about to dive in and start chowing down when I realized that they were the "Harry Potter" jelly bellies -- the ones flavored like dirt, boogers and vomit.

I opted for a Krackle instead.

Trick or treat, indeed!
--------------------------
Speaking of candy, my boss came by my office today with a huge bag of it. She then hid it around my office like a remedial Easter Bunny.

--------------------------
I saw Sufjan Stevens tonight at BAM with Keri. He is so AWESOME. I'm definitely not part of his hipster demographic, so a lot of the design elements and videography felt really forced and plastic to me, but I just love his music and his cute little voice. And he had four disco balls going at once! Hipster or no, I can't argue with that.

And he wrote an ode to the BQE! (you can catch part of it here) For about an hour tonight, I felt like Brooklyn was actually made out of heaven.