(no subject)
You are Michael Alig. You are king of the Club
Kids. You are the crack-smoking gay party
promoter with a penchant for hotpants, red
lipstick and Andy Worhol. You created some of
the wildest parties this country has ever seen.
You had it all.. fame, money,.. men. So what if
you helped kill your drug dealer, chopped off
his legs, sprinkled him with baking soda, and
humped the box you stuffed him in. You're still
pretty and you know it!
Which one of Michael Alig's Club Kids are you?
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yays.
So, my car is currently sittin gin the Giant parking lot on New Design Road. Why? Because my transmission is gone all to shit and was randomly shifting. My favorite was when I hit the brake, and it shifted up. At a stop light. So, Kate called Jen and she came and picked us up after we bought strawberries, whipped cream and dipping chocolate.
Went to dinner last night with my family for my grandmother's 58th birthday. We went to the Tasting Room on Market Street, and we got to have their private dining room, The Calvert Room. Great stuff. The food was awesome, but horrendously expensive. Surprise, surprise, my mother paid for it. Then my parents and I went and met one of their friends for drinks at Isabella's where I got to sit at the bar, because I'm legal, and we talked about how incredibly amazing it was that the male gymnasts could hold themselves up on the rings.
My parents were disappointed that they missed the Olympic Badminton competition. Luckily, I think they continue tonight. I saw a match yesterday while I was doing the dishes, and I've never seen a birdie move that fast in my life. Oh, and I want to be a professional volleyball player! I luff the sport.
My hair goes to the chop tomorrow morning, Hopefully it turns out as well as I hope it will. Yay redundancy.
It's 121 degrees in the sun, today. ::broils::