(no subject)

[tearjerk]

Saturday night was spent tripping on mushrooms in a parked car with John Thornton on a variation of streets in Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti. It was snowing and the entire universe was inside out. It was 70% uncool, 20% cool, and 10% I have no fucking idea. Today I met with "The Man" and he fingered my ass a little deeper, then I drove around for a bit, then I dropped my film class, smoked some cigarettes, drove around some more. A lot of shit I do just becomes a blur soon after it passes. I was fortunate enough to catch a rerun of the Black Dahlia Murder on Headbangers Ball an hour ago and it felt really funny to see. Cory served me proud by wearing my hoodie, and managed to mention Moz in the interview. I also heard the phrase "dude brutal" utttered lowly, which always makes me happy. After seeing the show, I felt compelled to call Brian and wake him up. I'm sorry, Brian. I feel like I'm droning on. I should go to sleep. Curtis, your backpack is still in the trunk of my car, and you're still a faggot.

Happy birthday Tim.