faces come out of the rain
i feel strange. i think i have mono. you know... nucleosis (not bad sound). my throat hurts and i'm tired a lot. i don't think i was this tired back when i had mono last time. i've been drinking more tea than beer, but maybe i should curb my beer drinking anyway. not much chance of that over the weekend. i think i want my own teaset, but i'm sick of cleaning little cups
i fell asleep early yesterday, about 2:30, watching the news. when i woke up, "The View" was on. there were eight women on two loveseats. the hot one was tracy ulman. the black one lost weight. she looked like an alien, that had swallowed tyra banks and tried to adapt her features, but still had the obstacle of a belly full of tyra. the wrinkled old jewess, i don't know her name, said "i wish i could have my hymen back." no better time to take your hand out of your pants (it's all still there) and wake the fuck up. my dad reads my blog, and sends them to my mom. i don't know how selective he is. it must be a real shame, to spend all that time telling me not to touch myself in public, just to have me talk about it all the time. happy birthday, dad.
life is silly. perhaps mine is sillier than yours. i got in a fight with the cta station operator earlier, and she threatened to call the police. i called her bluff, and pondered the objects i was carrying with me:
1. a stolen laptop. no biggie. it has lost nearly all traces of it's original owner, who was not the man who sold it to me.
2. a toy accordion
3. a replica Nazi dagger, about a foot long, with a pleather sheath
i have one paper to write, about the conflict between apollonian and dionysian figures in a movie of my choosing. i need to pick something stupid, to make it interesting. something with muppets, maybe. the second i finish this paper, my college carreer is over, which is why i'll be drinking far more beer than tea tomorrow. you're all invited to join me, except for my dad. i don't want him to see me like that.
the frogs are playing the beat kitchen on saturday. if i can't get tickets there, i'll cry. at least i would, if i was a seventeen year old lady frogs fan, but i don't think those exist. i humbly request your presence there. it should be a good show. they play the songs "now you know you're black" and "who's sucking on grandpa's balls now that grandma ain't home tonight?".
cheers
i fell asleep early yesterday, about 2:30, watching the news. when i woke up, "The View" was on. there were eight women on two loveseats. the hot one was tracy ulman. the black one lost weight. she looked like an alien, that had swallowed tyra banks and tried to adapt her features, but still had the obstacle of a belly full of tyra. the wrinkled old jewess, i don't know her name, said "i wish i could have my hymen back." no better time to take your hand out of your pants (it's all still there) and wake the fuck up. my dad reads my blog, and sends them to my mom. i don't know how selective he is. it must be a real shame, to spend all that time telling me not to touch myself in public, just to have me talk about it all the time. happy birthday, dad.
life is silly. perhaps mine is sillier than yours. i got in a fight with the cta station operator earlier, and she threatened to call the police. i called her bluff, and pondered the objects i was carrying with me:
1. a stolen laptop. no biggie. it has lost nearly all traces of it's original owner, who was not the man who sold it to me.
2. a toy accordion
3. a replica Nazi dagger, about a foot long, with a pleather sheath
i have one paper to write, about the conflict between apollonian and dionysian figures in a movie of my choosing. i need to pick something stupid, to make it interesting. something with muppets, maybe. the second i finish this paper, my college carreer is over, which is why i'll be drinking far more beer than tea tomorrow. you're all invited to join me, except for my dad. i don't want him to see me like that.
the frogs are playing the beat kitchen on saturday. if i can't get tickets there, i'll cry. at least i would, if i was a seventeen year old lady frogs fan, but i don't think those exist. i humbly request your presence there. it should be a good show. they play the songs "now you know you're black" and "who's sucking on grandpa's balls now that grandma ain't home tonight?".
cheers
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