Give me heaven or hell, Calais or Dover
So hello all, a rare update. They are getting more and more sparse, arent they.
Anyway, all is well in Saffyland, I got lazy got behind in school, but those days are over! Yea. I've applied for like 30 jobs with no luck. I don't know what it is. Maybe they think I am lying about that KEMPES job. It was rather a dream.
Anyway, nothing to update. I have managed to avoid the all-consuming plague that eventually preys upon those who return, i've not gained one pound!!! In fact, I found this picture taken of me at oreganos (oh lordy) on my b-day last year, and I am proud to report that the titties in that picture have long been thrown to the wind. Yes, children, it is true, I no longer have breasts.
Enough of that.
On another note, another relative died. Those of you who have been keeping count, in the past 2 years that makes like 6 or 7. I don't think it helps that I am related to half of safford, so that when someone dies there is a 60/40 chance it was a relative. Oh well. heheh... It's funny. People are always like DAMN, but they don't realize it's part of small town/big family life.
I am absolutly stir crazy here. I have a small, SMALL cluster of friends and that's about it. Life consists of going to Jerry's like EVERY night, then going to all four bars in town on the weekend; lather- rinse- repeat.
Oh, speaking of big hair- Winks DID close. Thanks bitches in phx for not telling a sister. (str8's excluded from scourge).
All I want to do is run away to some smokey opium den behind some shady casbah somewhere in Marrakesh and smoke a blend of hash and resin of moniker for such local. Well, I really don't but that would be quite glamorous, would it not, especially if they served us tea from those gigantic copper tea pots into those cute little glass cups. Oh child.
But really, I do want to be in some hovel somewhere plotting revolution with the greatest minds of our time, or reading cutting edge literature in some cafe in grenwich or paris or somewhere so cliche that it hurts. Whatever.
Allright children, all y'all. You should write me letters, the old fashioned kind that used stamps. That would be glorious. Remember stamps?
TTYL,
Tommy
Anyway, all is well in Saffyland, I got lazy got behind in school, but those days are over! Yea. I've applied for like 30 jobs with no luck. I don't know what it is. Maybe they think I am lying about that KEMPES job. It was rather a dream.
Anyway, nothing to update. I have managed to avoid the all-consuming plague that eventually preys upon those who return, i've not gained one pound!!! In fact, I found this picture taken of me at oreganos (oh lordy) on my b-day last year, and I am proud to report that the titties in that picture have long been thrown to the wind. Yes, children, it is true, I no longer have breasts.
Enough of that.
On another note, another relative died. Those of you who have been keeping count, in the past 2 years that makes like 6 or 7. I don't think it helps that I am related to half of safford, so that when someone dies there is a 60/40 chance it was a relative. Oh well. heheh... It's funny. People are always like DAMN, but they don't realize it's part of small town/big family life.
I am absolutly stir crazy here. I have a small, SMALL cluster of friends and that's about it. Life consists of going to Jerry's like EVERY night, then going to all four bars in town on the weekend; lather- rinse- repeat.
Oh, speaking of big hair- Winks DID close. Thanks bitches in phx for not telling a sister. (str8's excluded from scourge).
All I want to do is run away to some smokey opium den behind some shady casbah somewhere in Marrakesh and smoke a blend of hash and resin of moniker for such local. Well, I really don't but that would be quite glamorous, would it not, especially if they served us tea from those gigantic copper tea pots into those cute little glass cups. Oh child.
But really, I do want to be in some hovel somewhere plotting revolution with the greatest minds of our time, or reading cutting edge literature in some cafe in grenwich or paris or somewhere so cliche that it hurts. Whatever.
Allright children, all y'all. You should write me letters, the old fashioned kind that used stamps. That would be glorious. Remember stamps?
TTYL,
Tommy