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Animal Collective.  Prospect Park, Brooklyn.
Animal Collective. Prospect Park, Brooklyn.

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Seeing Animal Collective perform at the Prospect Park Bandshell this past weekend made we wonder, if this is the kind of shit my friends and I listen to, then what the hell will my children be listening to? I can only imagine . . .

Me:  Honey, dinner’s ready.  Hon?  What’s goi–
My Kid:  Shhhhh!
Me:  What?  What’s happening?
My Kid:  UGH, that was the best part.  You ruined it.
Me:  What are you talking about?  I don’t hear anything.
My Kid:  They’re called Mute.  I played them for you in the car.  Remember?
Me{blank stare}
My Kid:  Nevermind.  I’ll be right down.

cut offs

On my walk to work this morning I forgot how old I was.
Am I 21?  Nope. 22?  Hmm. I think that was last year. . .
OMG blanks. I’m drawing blanks! How old am I?!
I had to do the math to stop freaking out.
Way to start the day off scary, Marsh.

Oh!  Speaking of scary, I’ve also begun the horrendously terrifying yet ever-so-popular NYC life test of trying to find an apartment . . . in Brooklyn!  I’ve wanted to make this move for a while now and it’s seriously exciting albeit daunting/nerve-racking that by October 1st (fingers crossed) I will be all packed, moved, and on my way to living in a borough that feels more like my favorite pair of sample sale cut-offs rather than that seriously X-rated spandex leotard I still can’t convince myself to wear out in public.

Read:  too much sexy makes this baby go blind.