i'm a child of the settling dust
i don't want to say that i have nothing to say, because i do. but i don't know what i have to say. if that makes any sense. every time i drive home from work i always get these ideas and weird sentences that i think up from a lack of sleep, or from mind numbing exposure to fucking canadians. anyway, i get these ideas while driving home. unfortunately for me, i never have a way for me to jot down these things, and let's face it, my memory is nothing to boast about. so how do i overcome this frightening predicament? swerving to park on the side of the road to write down these things is a bit uncoventional. so, i've been flirting with the idea of getting an old school tape recorder. y'know. the ones where you have to use the tiny ass cassettes and shit. a bit nerdy? yes. buut who knows, maybe some of the bestestest ideas i've ever had have been lost because i never could remember them. of course, this could just be stupid, and the things i think on the ride home are just retarded notions and what have you. but eh, who knows. it'd be fun to dick around with a tape recorder regardless. yeah, that's about all i have to type.
actually, i've been listening to violent femmes a lot. i just love their style, i love the lyrics, i just fucking love how simple it all is. eh, i don't have the ambition to continue with this train of thought.
well, anyhow, before i stop writing, i'm getting crunked tomorrow at nate-dawgs grandma's lake house. t'will be me, jack, case, steve jordan, hillary doggett (sp?), nathan, and bobby. byob, which is a bitch, but it's well worth it for the grood company. unfortunately, i have to work, and i get out of work at 11. plus, on top of that i have to pick up steve and hillary at jack's house. but it's all good. nothing gwen steffani can't handle, amiright? it might seem as if i get drunk a lot i suppose. but i really don't. maybe once or twice a month, if that... or maybe three or four days... regardless, i don't get crunked much.
lord i'm tired. and this is the most pointless entry i've ever made. hah, oh yeah, zach told me a couple stories last night about a drug deal gone wrong and what he'd do if he had lost his eye sight. i'm not going to go into detail, but regardless, i haven't laughed that hard in years. oh man, good shit.
i really don't feel like typing much more. i'm extremely tired, and i have work and plans tomorrow. au reviour. i'm off to sleep