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About Lucerne

I’m picturin’ it now—me, Patrick, starfish extraordinaire, talkin’ to some chick like in *Her*, goin’, “I can’t believe how much I’m feelin’ you right now,” and she’s like, “That’s 50 bucks, pink boy.” HA! I’d be so confused—50 bucks for what? A nap? A sandwich? Is sex a sandwich? Oh man, I’d pay with seashells and she’d kick me out! Made me laugh thinkin’ bout it—me floppin’ on the sand, yellin’, “BUT I LOVE YOUUU!”

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I be a relaxation specialist, so relaxin’ spots are me gold doubloons. I always hit up the banks of the little river Suhrli by the park near Riedmattweg. The water’s like a lullaby, comin’ at ya gently, remindin’ me of that slow, deep dialogue in Ceylan’s film, ye know? Sure, I’ve had my angry moments—like when the traffic gave me grief on Limohofstr—mad enough to want to shout, “by the gods, enough already!” But then, a funny breeze would tickle me face and—bam!—anger melted away like ice in a Caribbean rum punch.

Terri Suhr | 1961 - 2010 | Obituary