barbie was a ho. but we love her so. she was having sex with g.i. joe.
this was a line from the inspirational poetry of blondie, who strips at the claremont lounge and crushes cans of pbr between her breasts, who is "half-gay," hates men with big penises, and who does more drugs than keith richards and lindsey lohan combined. i love her so. for valentines day i went to the earl to hear my love's spoken word and to watch the world's oldest drag queen sing some peggy lee while making literary references to walt whitman. "oh captain my captain!" by the way, blondie also has poems about her broken pussy and her german boyfriend who used to lock her in the attic... fun times.
as good as blondie's poetry is, i'm excited about reading some amazing stuff in trousdale's class including catch-22, which i read every summer of my high school career and which i based an entire crush around my shared love of with some dorky boy. i thought is was fate that we both had the same favorite book. i no longer subscribe to this logic. i do however vacillate daily between being mildly in love with trousdale to madly in love trousdale. the difference being correlated with the particular outfit she is wearing and not necessarily our mutual love of a particular book. which leads me to believe i have somehow become more shallow...
or maybe i'm just more in tuned with physical appreciation than i used to be. i wonder what it is like to have a whole classroom full of girls in love with you? well, i guess if you are a straight woman it is not all that exciting. a classroom full of girls is reminding me that i need to break this whole vow of celibacy thing asap. that shit is getting old!
as good as blondie's poetry is, i'm excited about reading some amazing stuff in trousdale's class including catch-22, which i read every summer of my high school career and which i based an entire crush around my shared love of with some dorky boy. i thought is was fate that we both had the same favorite book. i no longer subscribe to this logic. i do however vacillate daily between being mildly in love with trousdale to madly in love trousdale. the difference being correlated with the particular outfit she is wearing and not necessarily our mutual love of a particular book. which leads me to believe i have somehow become more shallow...
or maybe i'm just more in tuned with physical appreciation than i used to be. i wonder what it is like to have a whole classroom full of girls in love with you? well, i guess if you are a straight woman it is not all that exciting. a classroom full of girls is reminding me that i need to break this whole vow of celibacy thing asap. that shit is getting old!