i'm on tonight, you know my hips don't lie and i'm starting to feel it's right
I'm alive, I promise. But life = work right about now, and it's boring to keep talking about how Suzanne won't stop bitching about Louise and how they're trying to find a replacement for her. And if they want to do that, they'll have to do it over my, um, resignation. 'Cause fucked if I'm going to let that happen and not say anything.
I am way more proud of this icon than I should be. Jess + Howl = sexy. Even if I think Ginsberg was the Howard Stern of the 50s, I'll mostly forgive him just because of the line about seeking visionary Indian angels, because it's beautiful.
Also, if my brother is so secure in his masculinity, why does he get so pissed every time I tell him that the mixed martial-arts shows he watches always wind up with two guys writhing on the ground like they're having sex?