Our hell ends every weekend, but it's all I have to believe in.
Well, as always, things turn out alright.
+ Keys have been recovered by the beautiful people at the Alamo. I think I'm gonna pick 'em up tomorrow.
+ I love Erik and all of his fantastic fanboy-ness. (psst, Erik: I think I have to kidnap you, kay? k.)
+ I have RENT. Woke up, went out and bought it the morning. Fuck yes.
+ RENT poster is in the mail. Hoorah.
Now, in the grand tradition of recieving painfully ironic phone calls at perfect times, I'm usually never surprised. Well as of five minutes ago, I've been struck down with a severe case of "where the fuck did THAT come from??" Just got a call from Doug Fuller. Talk about a blast from the past. I mean really, wtf. He told me he got my number from Jamie, I told him that I think Jamie is a douche and a half. Lovely chat. Got some shameless promotion in for some photo opportunities. Hoopla. But I'm still dumbfounded by it. I haven't actually had a whole conversation with him since...um...probably freshman year. Fuck. Weird. I know I shouldn't hang out with someone who spent a year in jail, but damn, I've got nothing better to do.
Moooving on.
Actually, there's nothing else to say.
Except that I ate almost a whole box of mac'n'cheese. Sick.
+ Keys have been recovered by the beautiful people at the Alamo. I think I'm gonna pick 'em up tomorrow.
+ I love Erik and all of his fantastic fanboy-ness. (psst, Erik: I think I have to kidnap you, kay? k.)
+ I have RENT. Woke up, went out and bought it the morning. Fuck yes.
+ RENT poster is in the mail. Hoorah.
Now, in the grand tradition of recieving painfully ironic phone calls at perfect times, I'm usually never surprised. Well as of five minutes ago, I've been struck down with a severe case of "where the fuck did THAT come from??" Just got a call from Doug Fuller. Talk about a blast from the past. I mean really, wtf. He told me he got my number from Jamie, I told him that I think Jamie is a douche and a half. Lovely chat. Got some shameless promotion in for some photo opportunities. Hoopla. But I'm still dumbfounded by it. I haven't actually had a whole conversation with him since...um...probably freshman year. Fuck. Weird. I know I shouldn't hang out with someone who spent a year in jail, but damn, I've got nothing better to do.
Moooving on.
Actually, there's nothing else to say.
Except that I ate almost a whole box of mac'n'cheese. Sick.