18.06.05 - 1:14 p.m.

before anna's face was planted firmly in my shoulder, red and wet and her whole little frame shaking uncontrollably, when i was still drunk off free drinks gifted by a cousin-in-law bartender who has a mohawk and calls me darlin, when i was enjoying the scent of the laundry detergent used by the boy standing next to me, we stood waiting for the mountain goats and coined the phrase "a total dougher"
(well, i feel misrepresented.

me too. do you think john darnielle considers himself a representative of every boy in this room?
no. do you think any of the boys in this room consider him their representative?
no. is she serious about the tote bags?
i think so. she's a total...
a total dougher!).
later, anna would have too much to drink and yell obscenities at a semi-unsuspecting character in the saga that is her life and i would mouth i'm sorry over her head and john darnielle would ask, "does anyone know you guys are here, all tucked away in the woods?"

sarah dougher, you might be a nice person, but you're kind of a bad singer.
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the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







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