"So fine I never see you leaving by the back door..."
What's that, bitches and hoes?
Custom Longboard?
Yea, thass facking right.
Rogan dropped off my custom deck today, and I'm stoked. I'm going to paint a rad pin-up girl graphic on it, give it back to him, he'll fiberglass it, and then I just have to equip my beauty and she's done. By spring time, I'ma be cruisin'. Lovelovelove.
This weekend was party weekend. I haven't done that in a while, but it felt like a good idea.
On Friday night, I was bored off my fucking ass. I had been waiting since 5pm to find something to do. I had several correspondants also looking for a party, but by the end of it, the one plan I had (Go to Fuzzy's, get drunk) got cancelled cause everyone in this free universe was planning to go to Christoph's. By the time this was all established, the summary of my attitude was pretty much - "No." To put it simply. I wasn't about to leave my house at 10:00 to wait in the rain for a bus that was going to take me somewhere I didn't particularily want to be, with several dozen people who talk too much and... breathe too loudly. I don't know. I just didn't want to go. So Jeremie said he would swing by there, say hi to everyone, and he wanted to come see me later. Well.... I don't wait. I felt like a bitch, but when he called back to say he was bored I said "Ack! Gotta go! Liquor store ... closing... must... get... drunk! BYEEE."
My lovely ladies Brittany and Mary showed up at my window in the nick of time to save my ass from frustration and boredom. Running with all our girly might, we made it to the liquor store in time to find a forty pounder of vodka to induldge in. Mistake: While induldging in that much vodka, do not also induldge in a very large soy chai latte from Starbucks. Bad idea.
The three of us ladies went to Mikey's house with Willie, Sean and Franky. Shot after shot after shot, I decided to go sit on the couch, listening to a bunch of synthetic music and enjoying myself. I had some lovely conversation, and then promptly vomitted soy and vodka onto the couch. Joy.
Fearing the tiny splatter of vomit on the bottom of my pants, I asked to borrow some from Mikey. Now, here, my logic escapes me. He gave me boxers. I put on said heart-patterned boxers. Then I put my underwear over top of the boxers. Then I put my slightly pukey pants back on. Over top of my underwear which was overtop of Mikey's boxers. Explain that one. I thought it was completely logical.
After dragging a topless Mary away from Mikey, we walked back to Mary's house. I got egged on the way. A nice hard shot to the chest. But I didn't flinch or get angry. I just kept drunkenly walking. I was thoroughly passed out the second I hit Mary's bed. I woke in the morning to find dried egg all over the front of my shirt and caked into the chesthair of my jacket. Then I went to the bathroom to discover my panty-over-boxer-under-puke-pants combo. I was laughing so fucking hard that I had to show the ladies. We all felt like hell, but it was good times.
The next day was Willie's party. Too many people, if you ask me, and a touch too much drama between good friends of mine. But I couldn't get five steps into that room without getting hugged, loved, or pounded in the ass by nine hundred million of the most loved people to ever embrace a Mexican's house.
God damn people are complimentry these days.
"I love your hair!" x200000
"You're like.... pretty much gorgeous" x300000
"You did that poem! Oh my god. It was so fucking awesome." x400000
Uhm thanks? And my favourite...
"Hi Paul. How are you?"
"Hi Kara. Drunk. So I'm going to hit on you."
"That's cool. Have you met my boyfriend Jeremie?"
Snickersnickersnicker. Love you Paul.
Also, I have never seen so many good looking people in one area. I think I met the hottest chick I've ever seen and I swear to god somewhere in my demented head I would have hit on her if I wasn't with someone. Hahaha. And I don't know where all these guys came from, but they can come and party with me any time!
I changed my nose rings to star studs (possibly temporary) and I was kissing Jeremie and one fell out. I was so [drunk, stoned and] sad. I was burning my fingers off with a lighter searching through the mud and wet grass to find it, and along comes Christoph with his cell phone light and video camera. Miraculously, I found my nose stud. I was so thankful. As much as I love to be a grudging cunt with fantabulous reasoning behing my attitude, I am also resliient, and I really like not losing my brand new body jewellery. To show my appreciation, I gave him a moustache and unibrow in sharpie. Very Montana's birthday ribs. Without a moose hat and a cock drawn on a table cloth.
After drinking the rest of my share of vodka, paying off a drug debt, seeing tonnes of old and new faces, smoking just enough weed, and publically molesting my gorgeous boyfriend while waiting too long for a bus, I was ready to go home and sleep.
I woke up to a pretty, stubbly face nuzzled into me, and I went to work.
Now I'm dying of some sort of terminal illness of the nose. I believe it's called a cold. But I'm not happy about it.
Kurradawn.
Custom Longboard?
Yea, thass facking right.
Rogan dropped off my custom deck today, and I'm stoked. I'm going to paint a rad pin-up girl graphic on it, give it back to him, he'll fiberglass it, and then I just have to equip my beauty and she's done. By spring time, I'ma be cruisin'. Lovelovelove.
This weekend was party weekend. I haven't done that in a while, but it felt like a good idea.
On Friday night, I was bored off my fucking ass. I had been waiting since 5pm to find something to do. I had several correspondants also looking for a party, but by the end of it, the one plan I had (Go to Fuzzy's, get drunk) got cancelled cause everyone in this free universe was planning to go to Christoph's. By the time this was all established, the summary of my attitude was pretty much - "No." To put it simply. I wasn't about to leave my house at 10:00 to wait in the rain for a bus that was going to take me somewhere I didn't particularily want to be, with several dozen people who talk too much and... breathe too loudly. I don't know. I just didn't want to go. So Jeremie said he would swing by there, say hi to everyone, and he wanted to come see me later. Well.... I don't wait. I felt like a bitch, but when he called back to say he was bored I said "Ack! Gotta go! Liquor store ... closing... must... get... drunk! BYEEE."
My lovely ladies Brittany and Mary showed up at my window in the nick of time to save my ass from frustration and boredom. Running with all our girly might, we made it to the liquor store in time to find a forty pounder of vodka to induldge in. Mistake: While induldging in that much vodka, do not also induldge in a very large soy chai latte from Starbucks. Bad idea.
The three of us ladies went to Mikey's house with Willie, Sean and Franky. Shot after shot after shot, I decided to go sit on the couch, listening to a bunch of synthetic music and enjoying myself. I had some lovely conversation, and then promptly vomitted soy and vodka onto the couch. Joy.
Fearing the tiny splatter of vomit on the bottom of my pants, I asked to borrow some from Mikey. Now, here, my logic escapes me. He gave me boxers. I put on said heart-patterned boxers. Then I put my underwear over top of the boxers. Then I put my slightly pukey pants back on. Over top of my underwear which was overtop of Mikey's boxers. Explain that one. I thought it was completely logical.
After dragging a topless Mary away from Mikey, we walked back to Mary's house. I got egged on the way. A nice hard shot to the chest. But I didn't flinch or get angry. I just kept drunkenly walking. I was thoroughly passed out the second I hit Mary's bed. I woke in the morning to find dried egg all over the front of my shirt and caked into the chesthair of my jacket. Then I went to the bathroom to discover my panty-over-boxer-under-puke-pants combo. I was laughing so fucking hard that I had to show the ladies. We all felt like hell, but it was good times.
The next day was Willie's party. Too many people, if you ask me, and a touch too much drama between good friends of mine. But I couldn't get five steps into that room without getting hugged, loved, or pounded in the ass by nine hundred million of the most loved people to ever embrace a Mexican's house.
God damn people are complimentry these days.
"I love your hair!" x200000
"You're like.... pretty much gorgeous" x300000
"You did that poem! Oh my god. It was so fucking awesome." x400000
Uhm thanks? And my favourite...
"Hi Paul. How are you?"
"Hi Kara. Drunk. So I'm going to hit on you."
"That's cool. Have you met my boyfriend Jeremie?"
Snickersnickersnicker. Love you Paul.
Also, I have never seen so many good looking people in one area. I think I met the hottest chick I've ever seen and I swear to god somewhere in my demented head I would have hit on her if I wasn't with someone. Hahaha. And I don't know where all these guys came from, but they can come and party with me any time!
I changed my nose rings to star studs (possibly temporary) and I was kissing Jeremie and one fell out. I was so [drunk, stoned and] sad. I was burning my fingers off with a lighter searching through the mud and wet grass to find it, and along comes Christoph with his cell phone light and video camera. Miraculously, I found my nose stud. I was so thankful. As much as I love to be a grudging cunt with fantabulous reasoning behing my attitude, I am also resliient, and I really like not losing my brand new body jewellery. To show my appreciation, I gave him a moustache and unibrow in sharpie. Very Montana's birthday ribs. Without a moose hat and a cock drawn on a table cloth.
After drinking the rest of my share of vodka, paying off a drug debt, seeing tonnes of old and new faces, smoking just enough weed, and publically molesting my gorgeous boyfriend while waiting too long for a bus, I was ready to go home and sleep.
I woke up to a pretty, stubbly face nuzzled into me, and I went to work.
Now I'm dying of some sort of terminal illness of the nose. I believe it's called a cold. But I'm not happy about it.
Kurradawn.