Today was a day.
Today I went around a little strip near Dupont and window shopped with Morrigan. It was almost like being back in Ann Arbor... little shops with lots of silly things, and pretty journals. We also went and drooled over furniture, ultra-hip clothing, and amazing dishware. There was the little cafe full of scene folks and thrasher music, and the random building that had nothing inside except massive stone heads. Fucking. Awesome. Decomposing Bhudda, and it looked like a warehouse. Driving around D.C. with the windows down and blasting out Nicole's Mix.
It was a good day. Not to mention that before all that, when Morrigan called at noon to wake me up (although I'd woken up at six, I went to sleep around nine-thirty having AMAZING stoner dreams.) I was in the middle of a conversation with Martha Stewart. In my dream, of course. Showering was awesome. Then I drove around all errand-like, with little domestic stops at the dry cleaners, library, and video store. AND I rediscovered the easy way to get to Morrigan's from my house.
Still did not find hair salon. Damnit.
However, now I am back at my grandfather's, and the second brownie didn't do anything except make me drowsy and unable to watch Requiem for a Dream. Which is unfortunate, because I really wanted something psuedo-intellectual going on. Nobody's calling on the phone, grandfather's watching tv, nobody's talking on myspace...
Oh, that's a good story. So I ranted a bit about the lack of a boytoy on myspace, yeah? Then one of the people I know through Blaire, Jimmy, sends me this message about how he's happy to volunteer his "services".
(Foot in mouth moment here)
I mean, the kid's.... nice, I suppose. I kind of pity him, really. (David, this is the kid whose couch you passed out on) During the insane night that was David coming into my land, I begged places to sleep for Blaire, David, and myself. Of course, I pulled a Betsy and wound up sleeping with a very nice boy, J.C. But poor Blaire, she ended up getting a bit molested by Jimmy. When she was trying to sleep.
So, first off, that's a problem. I'm not a real big fan of people who disturb other's sleep. Sleep is a very important thing, especially when you're fucked up. And really what I mean to say is, Jimmy's a bit of a square kid, very nice and very friendly, but kind of... pathetic. Doesn't seem to have a whole lot to say, and tries way too hard to impress people.
So for this kid to "volunteer", it was very hard not to type, "yeah, no, never even considered, never gonna happen, not for all the beer in the world". And really, just teaches me two things - 1. When you feel the creepy vibe, you're probably correct. 2. I really don't need to get laid that badly.
and, of course, the real lesson learned: Don't be suprised when you bitch about your sex life on myspace what kind of response you'll inevitably get.
It was a good day. Not to mention that before all that, when Morrigan called at noon to wake me up (although I'd woken up at six, I went to sleep around nine-thirty having AMAZING stoner dreams.) I was in the middle of a conversation with Martha Stewart. In my dream, of course. Showering was awesome. Then I drove around all errand-like, with little domestic stops at the dry cleaners, library, and video store. AND I rediscovered the easy way to get to Morrigan's from my house.
Still did not find hair salon. Damnit.
However, now I am back at my grandfather's, and the second brownie didn't do anything except make me drowsy and unable to watch Requiem for a Dream. Which is unfortunate, because I really wanted something psuedo-intellectual going on. Nobody's calling on the phone, grandfather's watching tv, nobody's talking on myspace...
Oh, that's a good story. So I ranted a bit about the lack of a boytoy on myspace, yeah? Then one of the people I know through Blaire, Jimmy, sends me this message about how he's happy to volunteer his "services".
(Foot in mouth moment here)
I mean, the kid's.... nice, I suppose. I kind of pity him, really. (David, this is the kid whose couch you passed out on) During the insane night that was David coming into my land, I begged places to sleep for Blaire, David, and myself. Of course, I pulled a Betsy and wound up sleeping with a very nice boy, J.C. But poor Blaire, she ended up getting a bit molested by Jimmy. When she was trying to sleep.
So, first off, that's a problem. I'm not a real big fan of people who disturb other's sleep. Sleep is a very important thing, especially when you're fucked up. And really what I mean to say is, Jimmy's a bit of a square kid, very nice and very friendly, but kind of... pathetic. Doesn't seem to have a whole lot to say, and tries way too hard to impress people.
So for this kid to "volunteer", it was very hard not to type, "yeah, no, never even considered, never gonna happen, not for all the beer in the world". And really, just teaches me two things - 1. When you feel the creepy vibe, you're probably correct. 2. I really don't need to get laid that badly.
and, of course, the real lesson learned: Don't be suprised when you bitch about your sex life on myspace what kind of response you'll inevitably get.