everybody is thinking about sex

Today I went to a pseudo hipster party where I ran into just about every person who would be well suited for a weird bizarro nightmare that I would have, that would ultimately end with the creepy clown faces that would come far closer than you would expect or hope to see, cackling maniacally. There was the girl who terrorized my elementary school to fulfill some kind of "popular girl" status quo (honestly what made her popular? Everyone was afraid of her! I guess it was a title bestowed on she who owned the most butterfly clips). Also, there was the guy who sat at the peanut butter table in elementary school, the kid who used to terrorize other kids who appeared to be gay but who is now very much flamboyant but still, plain cruel, and the guy who gave me their number and I said I would call but never did out of plain disinterest. We all kind of looked at each other, shifty eyed, with little or nothing to say to each other. What made it the weirdest thing was something that I concluded while sitting on my satin couch amidst the dim light being emitted by the pineapple-shaped lamp, contemplating the want to crawl out of my own skin awkwardness of it all, was this one thought:

We are all thinking about sex.