Grover...Roadkill.

Yesterday I found myself in a stretch Expedition Limo cruising through midtown.
I rolled the window down just enough to ash my rollie cigarette. At red lights you could see people trying to get a better view of the sheila behind the partially rolled down mirrored window.
I tried to exude fame out of my exposed forehead and wrist.
I even wore my newly knitted wrist cuff that I feel also exudes fame. It looks like I shot Grover and skinned him.
Yes, it has fame written all over it.
I even felt justified in yelling at a stupid man who had parked in the middle of a lower east side road because a taxi had left a weenie yellow dot on his already scuffed, bumper. Afterall, I was famous, famous people yell abuse at nobodies.
I poked my head out of the window and said " You Silly Bugger!" ,I realise now in retrospect that wasn't very in character... " You Silly Bugger" probably wouldn't roll off the tongue of a famous person riding in a stretch Expedition limo.

Now if there is a run on people wearing fuzzy Grover-like cuffs, you know it is because of me.
If I had a digital camera I could take a photo of this rocking cuff and show you... Alas. A mouse drawn cartoon will have to do.