June 14th, 2007
Taxi cab zipping down the 101 like a bullet to the ocean, goddamn, how much will this cost? Who cares, we can both drink.
Fucking sweet...baby gots a union job.
Hi to your friend from Brazil who lost his eye due to the fact that the benevolent parasite he caught from the waters down there went for his vision and not his brain. Little zombie inside his head. Scary shit man.
I note that the glass eye is pretty and he's drinking hennessey and coke.
He has to shoot up again...I take out his syringes and watch the monitor for a read. It was the rice. The rice from the sushi and maybe the beer. That's why its high, a few units and then relief. A constant balancing act. An unlikely badass warrior.
He opens up doors.
Fuck this, I hate WEHO. Assholes and bitches. This club doesn't feel familiar. I try to get a visceral response from those days when I would shakily venture out to the city with the big kids.
Those memories don't even seem real.
But they happened. And that is awesome.
Brazil's cousin is fucking hot and talented. I don't feel guilty for this, because she's a girl.
A game of chip roulette and caffine vs caffine free diet pepsi find us in the Roosevelt looking like eastside paupers sniffing around for scraps.
Shit, is that Eryka Badu?
Plans for impromptu hotel sleep overs are made.
Lurk around for a bathroom.
Taxi cab home through the good parts of hollywood. I wish the 1980s would've never happened to this town, garish bullshit lingers but not enough to cover the fucked-up-in-a-beautiful way history. Hall-ay-loo-yah.
Did that guy say 'uno mas muerte?'
uno mas man, uno mas.
weedsmoke.
chit chats.
you have blue asian eyes.
you have an understanding.
you have a slow smile and rough hands.
turn on the red light and the radio.
we should slow dance.
Fucking sweet...baby gots a union job.
Hi to your friend from Brazil who lost his eye due to the fact that the benevolent parasite he caught from the waters down there went for his vision and not his brain. Little zombie inside his head. Scary shit man.
I note that the glass eye is pretty and he's drinking hennessey and coke.
He has to shoot up again...I take out his syringes and watch the monitor for a read. It was the rice. The rice from the sushi and maybe the beer. That's why its high, a few units and then relief. A constant balancing act. An unlikely badass warrior.
He opens up doors.
Fuck this, I hate WEHO. Assholes and bitches. This club doesn't feel familiar. I try to get a visceral response from those days when I would shakily venture out to the city with the big kids.
Those memories don't even seem real.
But they happened. And that is awesome.
Brazil's cousin is fucking hot and talented. I don't feel guilty for this, because she's a girl.
A game of chip roulette and caffine vs caffine free diet pepsi find us in the Roosevelt looking like eastside paupers sniffing around for scraps.
Shit, is that Eryka Badu?
Plans for impromptu hotel sleep overs are made.
Lurk around for a bathroom.
Taxi cab home through the good parts of hollywood. I wish the 1980s would've never happened to this town, garish bullshit lingers but not enough to cover the fucked-up-in-a-beautiful way history. Hall-ay-loo-yah.
Did that guy say 'uno mas muerte?'
uno mas man, uno mas.
weedsmoke.
chit chats.
you have blue asian eyes.
you have an understanding.
you have a slow smile and rough hands.
turn on the red light and the radio.
we should slow dance.