(no subject)
i went to orlando last weekend to visit my friends from sarasota. falconetti and i spent a few hours in his dorm on saturday afternoon scoping for people passing by his window, whenever we caught one, we'd turn his computer speakers toward the screen and play the Seinfeld theme at full volume. at the time, it was probably the most hilarious thing we'd ever done before. it doesn't translate to be nearly as funny in a livejournal recreation.
in other news, tonight at the out house we had a huge keg party slash feature film shoot. chris bonnell and his crazy crew of tweaked out melodramady filmmakers were turning the house into some sort of twisted "abandoned boarding school for boys" that had since become an "abortion clinic." fuck if i know what the story is really about, but regardless, we didn't have any problems throwing a mega shindig in the backyard, complete with full-force bonfire and cold weather, whiel chris created his movie masterpeice in the frontyard.
so somebody definitely let the chicks loose tonight. grace called me (as usual) looking to hang out, i filled her in on the party details, she had me pick her and her friend katie up to join in on the excitement. well, as hot as they both are, grace has always been a whack, and like i said, she may be entirely beautiful and 100% tempting, she's a nut, fully, and i try to keep my distance, but katie was throwing herself at me like a bad pitch, and needless to say, i got hit. we kissed and touched in dan's room, until we got kicked out by the room owner, at which time we moved to bryant's where we experimented with sexy kissing against the wall while she lifted her leg and swung her hips into mine. hey, what can i say, we're in college.
aside from that, life has continued it's incessant, 100% of-the-time guaranteed suckfest. i continue to sleep on the couch in the garage (alone) i continue to fill notebooks with drawings and writings about being alone, about losing my wits, my head, my temper, my life, my love and my appetite. i've been listening to nothing but taking back sunday, and i really mean NOTHING, which is so miserable. west palm beach is still the only place i ever want to be, and i continue to have these nonstop dreams about this nonstop thing that is running nonstop in my head, and if i could have a ponytail i would turn to the side and shurg and wonder why in the world i can't get rid of this useless chemical that simply fills me up with so much of something that will always be nothing until the end of the months or whatever when it happens again.
it's been decided that the more couches you sleep on, the more blisters you walk on, the more hearts that you step on, the more losses you count on, all adds towards the most lifetime you're given. i can't decide if i've already exploded or if i'm starting my ascent, but i do know that bottle rockets only make one trip, and there's either a finale, or a lackluster explosion and a completely blank sky to fall back on.
this is so stupid, i'm sorry you guys. i wish i had some great news to tell you, but unfortunately, monica pazos (aka, potentially great news) is simply turning her head over in her hands, every night, to this day, and still makes it infinitely impossible to touch her arm or grab her hips. not only that, but im not even sure if they're the right hips anyway, like maybe the right ones are filling with goosebumbps and silent snoring somewhere. like maybe you don't know who the fuck i'm talking about. psh. whatever man.
so, as always, another uplifting and riveting live journal entry:
it's saturday morning, but there's no carpet downstairs or television to watch cartoons on. i've only got a few things in the world to keep me going, and most of them don't even belong to me anyway. so where am i going?
.donny
in other news, tonight at the out house we had a huge keg party slash feature film shoot. chris bonnell and his crazy crew of tweaked out melodramady filmmakers were turning the house into some sort of twisted "abandoned boarding school for boys" that had since become an "abortion clinic." fuck if i know what the story is really about, but regardless, we didn't have any problems throwing a mega shindig in the backyard, complete with full-force bonfire and cold weather, whiel chris created his movie masterpeice in the frontyard.
so somebody definitely let the chicks loose tonight. grace called me (as usual) looking to hang out, i filled her in on the party details, she had me pick her and her friend katie up to join in on the excitement. well, as hot as they both are, grace has always been a whack, and like i said, she may be entirely beautiful and 100% tempting, she's a nut, fully, and i try to keep my distance, but katie was throwing herself at me like a bad pitch, and needless to say, i got hit. we kissed and touched in dan's room, until we got kicked out by the room owner, at which time we moved to bryant's where we experimented with sexy kissing against the wall while she lifted her leg and swung her hips into mine. hey, what can i say, we're in college.
aside from that, life has continued it's incessant, 100% of-the-time guaranteed suckfest. i continue to sleep on the couch in the garage (alone) i continue to fill notebooks with drawings and writings about being alone, about losing my wits, my head, my temper, my life, my love and my appetite. i've been listening to nothing but taking back sunday, and i really mean NOTHING, which is so miserable. west palm beach is still the only place i ever want to be, and i continue to have these nonstop dreams about this nonstop thing that is running nonstop in my head, and if i could have a ponytail i would turn to the side and shurg and wonder why in the world i can't get rid of this useless chemical that simply fills me up with so much of something that will always be nothing until the end of the months or whatever when it happens again.
it's been decided that the more couches you sleep on, the more blisters you walk on, the more hearts that you step on, the more losses you count on, all adds towards the most lifetime you're given. i can't decide if i've already exploded or if i'm starting my ascent, but i do know that bottle rockets only make one trip, and there's either a finale, or a lackluster explosion and a completely blank sky to fall back on.
this is so stupid, i'm sorry you guys. i wish i had some great news to tell you, but unfortunately, monica pazos (aka, potentially great news) is simply turning her head over in her hands, every night, to this day, and still makes it infinitely impossible to touch her arm or grab her hips. not only that, but im not even sure if they're the right hips anyway, like maybe the right ones are filling with goosebumbps and silent snoring somewhere. like maybe you don't know who the fuck i'm talking about. psh. whatever man.
so, as always, another uplifting and riveting live journal entry:
it's saturday morning, but there's no carpet downstairs or television to watch cartoons on. i've only got a few things in the world to keep me going, and most of them don't even belong to me anyway. so where am i going?
.donny