not a bad few
was out in Sycamore (read: bumblefuck) last Friday and had an amusing, though baffling, time hanging with Accountamatrix, Thespa, and some other people i was meeting for the first time. it was very - domestic. Norman Rockwell even: lotsa trucks; one-horse town with A blink-length main drag; very amicable but simple people; children; gargantuan pork-chops and premixed margaritas. and, i didn't hate it. 'twas a strange affair. i have vowed to move myself out of the 'burbs and into the City (The City: Where you find Things). however, rural America isn't so horrible either. couldn't see myself living there, but i didn't break out into hives either. i actually had fun playing with this gal's four (¿five?) year old kid - he was a smart little critter, too (though, granted, my comparison's are rather small - i haven't interacted with children/babysat for going on 13 years). it was surreal: he kept hugging me and showing me his toys and telling me how awesome firemen are (his mom's boyfriend is a fireman). i was partially raised on my grandmother's rural estate, so getting muddy in the crick is nothing untoward, however we never really interacted with the folk out *there*. i wonder if i'm not imposing too many stereotypes
at any rate, karmically speaking, i'm all balanced out as went to a Superbowl party on Sunday in the City with Thespa, Chrysallis, and some of my very very gay friends. ¡it was a riot! this year's advertising was strangely and queerly insidious. we redubbed the whole affair the Superbowl (it looks better with accompanying lisp and limp wrist). Prince is kirazy - Grossman's a twink. i hang my head: i actually got into the game. i was a'whoopin' and a'hollerin' and had a rollicking old time. didn't follow any game from the season and can only pick out the main players, but i admit... i - enjoyed... watching - football *GASP*
this week's gonna suck. already had to work late and later (did get to a nice greek restaurant in the between with Maestra - great Saganaki and lamb) and it don't look to let up. but hey, i just got a pair of hideously ugly running shoes (old grandpa, ugly - periwinkle and neon yellow, ugly) which i get to flaunt at the gym tonight. i'm betting i either get lynched or vomited. maybe both
at any rate, karmically speaking, i'm all balanced out as went to a Superbowl party on Sunday in the City with Thespa, Chrysallis, and some of my very very gay friends. ¡it was a riot! this year's advertising was strangely and queerly insidious. we redubbed the whole affair the Superbowl (it looks better with accompanying lisp and limp wrist). Prince is kirazy - Grossman's a twink. i hang my head: i actually got into the game. i was a'whoopin' and a'hollerin' and had a rollicking old time. didn't follow any game from the season and can only pick out the main players, but i admit... i - enjoyed... watching - football *GASP*
this week's gonna suck. already had to work late and later (did get to a nice greek restaurant in the between with Maestra - great Saganaki and lamb) and it don't look to let up. but hey, i just got a pair of hideously ugly running shoes (old grandpa, ugly - periwinkle and neon yellow, ugly) which i get to flaunt at the gym tonight. i'm betting i either get lynched or vomited. maybe both