February 12, 2006

So it was bound to happen. Today, that is.
and today was not good. Isn't it fabulous? I mean read Friday, and I should have known that it would have happened.
Highlights
" I like your headband" amazing cafe cashier and "on foccacio" (yummy).
it rained all over me. Try to imagine with pants soaked in crummy damp wet wet water, stupid rain i felt like a retarted cowboy who'd lost all his cows... stupid girls and stupid smelly rain. I'm gonna go listen to some music... that is how perturbed I am.

"I like your headband... I mean it should be called a tiara in fact... its good. "
"oh thankyou."
"yes, well your very welcome... um. you know I have a headband. but where i come from they call it a crown."
The kingdom is lacking a..... housekeeper/babysitter/entertainer. and I think you can forward your resume to me after we have dinner at the I house ....dinner on Wednesday. You can then use my computer at my house. I love laptops. It will be lying on top of my bed. Don't pay attention to any pictures or videos that will be playing in the background. just forward the resume. okay. here is my secretary's card. she works for the UN in her free time, so I might have to pick up the phone for her.
Be punctual.

Its amazin what a few fresh jams can do for the downtrodden, sicklecelled sould of a mallaman.
I think Zepp's Kashmir was the greatest plug of the day.
or the Killers with that pub nostalgia rock dance hall melody. not the jesus song but the other new one.
let me tell you those two were like two delicious slices of the most heavenly pepperoni pizzas, which I will never eat again, since I have a fat pouch.
on facebook. I should put in activities. poking my fat pouch. Random thoughts; what if my brother gets married to her. Did mom see the booze bottles, what happened to mom and dad?, this goddamn cereal is full of carbs. stupid keeffe. erin has sucha sweet soft.... (sexy?) voice. I hate htat chicken looking girl in our freaking lab, smarty pants hen. and this feeling in my goddamn ball of balls. what is this? lactic acid. what the fuck, cortisol, there of all places.
dance diffuses, and here I thought it was an activator. this morning i was in pain and i thought of blue, but did it work? yes it did . how come i only think of blue when i have no choice.
do I dance for blue...I doubt it. Its a lonely day Julian West, but that's how you freaking wanted it. tommorow i have to go and tell robert I mailed his letter. Swept of their feet. that 's what they want. i scuttle and nibble and poke and jest, and they want a sweeper. I am sebastian the crab, not eric. apu, not al, but at least i'm not that freaking iago. what apiece of crap that one is.