Friday, September 30, 2005

it's such a perfect day...

...i'm glad i spent it with you.

last night i ate falafel at a lebanese restaurant and smoked cigarettes even though it was a non smoking establishment. whatever. there was no one else there. it was byob. six miller lights and a tgi fridays single serving bottle of disgusting long island iced tea with such stellar ingredients as ALL NATURAL FLAVORS whatever that means. i was writing shit that people were saying down on a receipt and i'm looking at it now and here's what it says: post it it really resonates fiction it's not me.

then i went home and took a shower and went to a friend's house and read some italian movie it was SO FUCKING GOOD except i don't remember what it was called. then i woke up and all they had at their place was orange juice. i hate pulpy orange juice it's like someone shredded up a paper towel and threw it in there or something. then i broke a glass and cleaned it up and left.

now i'm taking my dogs to meet my future landlord's dogs and if they all get along i'm going to sign a lease and i will get so excited i will probably push mandy into a bush.

then i'm going to the lyrics born show that i fucking won free tickets to because i am awesome and i know the words to lots of songs and it turns out sometimes that can win you free shit like tickets to awesome shows that you were probably going to go to anyway and spend $15 on. i was so geeked about it that i think i asked everyone i talked to in the past week if they wanted to come with me. then i'm like fuck i can't pick, so i'm going with a random seventh person because that seems fair in my drunken mind.

best past 24 hours ever. except for the 20 minutes between the time i got home and left my house again because i almost decided i was too drunk to leave and then i almost fell asleep plus i am never home anymore so my apartment is pretty much filled with rotting food and cigarette butts that i'm saving so i can smoke them later when i'm poor.

i wonder if i'm bipolar. time to consult the dsm. too bad in the exorcism of emily rose the lawyer is like "the dsm is known as the bible of psychological blah blah blah" and i'm like WHAT??? nobody calls it THAT!

man that movie fucking sucked. give me a few hundred thousand dollars, i'll write direct and star in a better movie.

SEEEEE YAAAAAA!
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