(no subject)
It's 4:48am. I just got home from work. It's nice to be a part of a publication, but WHY THE FUCK AM I UP AT 4:48 IN THE MORNING!?
At least I get the rest of the day off.
Things I find on my computer when I get home:
-messages from sauga friends, possibly wondering why my subname was "fuck. cock. balls"
-message from l'editor de la presse: done at ads at 10:30pm? NOT BLOODY LIKELY!
-continued convo from when I left at 8pm: daniel toadstool back from her nap, but me "not so much"
-obscure ex message
-my antivirus software reminding me it sucks shit. sucks fuck cock balls, even.
Plan for tomorrow *scratches that out* the rest of the day:
-sleep
-sleep
-pee, possibly, should the need arise
-sleep
The weekend was long but good. Good people. Good times. Some questionable times, but good overall.
Stupid tears and stupid pains. Who invited them?
Argentine Love Machine. Fucking. Love. It.
Tarzan. Yee-ikes.
I'm fucking wired but I'm exhausted. I want to crash...but I wish someone was online to talk to. God knows I already suckered people into keeping me company earlier. No sane person is up at this time. Where are all the fucking cool insane people, is what I want to know!
Amaretto sours...how do I love thee? Oh yes, we've counted the ways...So good.
Evidence is how I remember this interaction from Port last night...no, the night before...bah! I can't remember:
Brown: You driving?
Me: No.
Brown: Why aren't you drinking?
Me: *shrugs*
Brown: What'd you just have?
Me: Amaretto sour. One here with the girls, and one at the Arms.
Brown: Get another
Me: Ok.
(1 minute later)
Brown: Yaaa!!! You finish it already?
Me: *grins* This shit's like candy. So good.
As the clock changes to 5:00am, I realize I need my jammies and a pillow to put my head on. Also, there is amaretto on the night stand...in case I feel compelled for a sour before bed.
5:01am. This shit's whack.
At least I get the rest of the day off.
Things I find on my computer when I get home:
-messages from sauga friends, possibly wondering why my subname was "fuck. cock. balls"
-message from l'editor de la presse: done at ads at 10:30pm? NOT BLOODY LIKELY!
-continued convo from when I left at 8pm: daniel toadstool back from her nap, but me "not so much"
-obscure ex message
-my antivirus software reminding me it sucks shit. sucks fuck cock balls, even.
Plan for tomorrow *scratches that out* the rest of the day:
-sleep
-sleep
-pee, possibly, should the need arise
-sleep
The weekend was long but good. Good people. Good times. Some questionable times, but good overall.
Stupid tears and stupid pains. Who invited them?
Argentine Love Machine. Fucking. Love. It.
Tarzan. Yee-ikes.
I'm fucking wired but I'm exhausted. I want to crash...but I wish someone was online to talk to. God knows I already suckered people into keeping me company earlier. No sane person is up at this time. Where are all the fucking cool insane people, is what I want to know!
Amaretto sours...how do I love thee? Oh yes, we've counted the ways...So good.
Evidence is how I remember this interaction from Port last night...no, the night before...bah! I can't remember:
Brown: You driving?
Me: No.
Brown: Why aren't you drinking?
Me: *shrugs*
Brown: What'd you just have?
Me: Amaretto sour. One here with the girls, and one at the Arms.
Brown: Get another
Me: Ok.
(1 minute later)
Brown: Yaaa!!! You finish it already?
Me: *grins* This shit's like candy. So good.
As the clock changes to 5:00am, I realize I need my jammies and a pillow to put my head on. Also, there is amaretto on the night stand...in case I feel compelled for a sour before bed.
5:01am. This shit's whack.