if something terrible happens to me tonight while i sleep. or tomorrow while i rock. if someone crashes into my house with a tank or with a mess of bricks in a sock and pounds me. ive lived. ive loved. and ive been loved. i had some of the best girlfriends of all. i asked each of them to marry me. some repeatedly. and we all know why the lord hardened their hearts. and so their lives wouldnt be ruined. and so i would become a blogrrr. (what joy) when my truest and i were together i stopped writing entirely. i had little websites that were mostly pictures and sports and everything dumb. boringness ontop of dullness sprinkled with shit because all shed have to do was walk into the room or do the worm in the kitchen or take a piss in the quiet of the middle of the night and id sigh. loudly so shed hear. shed crawl back in bed and id say even the way you flushed was hot, lets do it. id take pics when she slept id take pics when she ate id take pics when shed say quit taking pics. i would have never believed in love or true loves or hidden angels let alone soul mates if it werent for her. i would have never believed what real was if it wasnt for san francisco and the midtown bar and the dominatrix bartender who poured whatever magic was in that anchor steam that night the night my truest said ok so is that it between us and i said pretty much and she said bs. she said we’ve only just begun. or maybe that was the carpenters. either way all the demons in my head that said shes too tall shes too bosomey shes too sweet shes shiras bff she wears worse clothes than you shes not the punk rock teen that you think you want got drunk and shut up and i tooker back to the elegant victorian flat and that was that for six years straight. give or take. christine rene is back from africa where she saved the world. im gonna see her in oregon on friday. cuz a week from todays her bday. i think her parents are gonna let us share a bedroom together. not sure. but if they dont im gonna sneak into her bedroom. and im gonna whisper things like this:
and when shes least expecting it, a little of this shit:
im gonna asker what she learned in africa in regards to esp mind control, soft breathing and letting the sexiestness of ones soul float from ones brown eyes over into the others blue eyes. and perhaps leak out that ass. which is why the hand has to cover it up. like so.
June 6 Jimmy Kimmel Live! 7 San Diego, CA – Casbah 9 Vancouver, BC – Plaza 10 Seattle, WA – Chop Suey 12 San Francisco, CA – PopScene 13 Los Angeles, CA – Troubadour 14 Los Angeles, CA – Zero One 16 Toronto, ONT – Mod Club 17 New York, NY – Apple Instore (Soho) 18 New York, NY – Bowery Ballroom 19 Boston, MA – Great Scott 20 Brooklyn, NY – South Paw 21 Philadelphia, PA – Popped
ugh man i went into urgent care today cos i felt crappy all week and got a sore throat too but i am so used to feeling run down that i was like whatever another damn cold or something but then i looked at my throat and it was covered in white shit and i yelled OH GROSSSSSSS and regretted it instantly because it made my throat hurt to yell. seriously that might be the grossest thing i have ever seen, my throat covered in patches of nasty ass white spots.
oh and i’ll have you know that since blog-dissing sex and the city i have gotten in a huge fight with a friend (resolved now) and THREE facebook SATC gifts, two shoes and 1 martini glass. FUCK OFF YOU GUYS!
basically my take on that show/movie is, you can be a sexy empowered woman and not look to those characters as role models or representatives for how you feel about men and sex and love, i could not ever get into the show, and i think it’s cos i out-yuppied myself when i was a teenager, too many issues of cosmo and tiny skirts and old men skeletons in my closet to care anymore. plus, i’m kind of a slob.
and evidently all of toronto is wearing yellow dresses now, so thanks for that one too.
She’s like “Sorry Sass, I have bad news. I just talked to JT and he’s coming with The Fifth.” OH NO YOU DIDN’T just dawn this on me now! She makes the ‘I’m sorryyyyyyyy’ squinty face, with a shoulder shrug and nothing-I-can-do hands in the air. Y’know the one that’s supposed to signify ‘Oopsie daisy. No biggie right? You can’t be mad at me if I make my own face ugly for all of 5 seconds’.
i think that is what i’m going to wear all summer. that is what i’m wearing right now and i am eating a bowl of apple jacks. i don’t even like apple jacks and i am not hungry, but eating apple jacks goes with my outfit and i am a slave to asthetics. if only i was eating these apple jacks in a tennis court i could die happy right now. obviously i got a pair of shoes this weekend that are seriously going to change my life. i think they are going to motivate me to take up speed chess. speed chess in the park in short dresses and soccer shoes!
and those are just a few who posted this weekend who i love.
she twists my nipples in the dark. i teller i dont like that. i say be gentle. she forgets the next day. this morning we woke up tangled nice. one thing led to several others. everything was going well, which is something, thankfully, ive never had to worry about. especially in the morning. only thing i ever worry about is the neighbors. i dont think about them ever except then. they dont think about me, im sure, their dog shit still litters the lawn. all a man wants to do is walk to his newspaper in the morning and not have to worry about a treasure mound. would it be so impossible to walk in the grass barefoot in america on a sunday? yes. would it be so impossible to have the girl youre into actually remember who shes with? some of us are sensitive poets some of us you only have to whisper to, or look at a certain way or smile correctly. or when youre on the subway, on your way to the cure show at the hollywood bowl in a car so packed that she has to sit and you hafta stand she makes eye contact parts her legs a crack
subtley’s my sweet mistress.
twist the nips of yr schoolboys. taste the lips of your man.