Monday, October 31, 2005

this shit sucks.

i get to go to a funeral in westchester tomorrow. i went to westchester once. it looked pretty industrial like not in a cool way. i bet it has a lot of strip malls. i bet kids in westchester drive hatchbacks and are like 'my friends are family to me'. i bet kids in westchester are never going to amount to anything beyond like massage therapists and line cooks but they won't even care until they are like 42 and are suddenly like what the fuck. i should categorize people and make predictions about them for my job because i am so fucking good at it. oh wait that's already what i do for my job. awesome.

i don't want to go to a funeral in westchester tomorrow. i'll probably cry in front of a bunch of professionals. one day i'll be like defending my dissertation and everybody there will be like hey i remember that girl she totally lost it at that funeral in westchester.

can i get drunk for this funeral? i was drunk all weekend. i use alcohol to cope with shit i don't like because i am mature.

people from oak park don't know how to handle emotions so they try to manage them with substances and sarcasm. i'm so good at my job.

Friday, October 28, 2005

it's the second day and i'm not okay

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck life is very long? LIFE IS VERY LONG??? WHAT THE FUCK ???fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
streetlights blurred and smeared into a thousand points of light white red and green against shiny black streets. lines simple and sharp. i screamed. my heart hurts. drunk on two bottles of wine. i want my head to hurt. in a different way. i want to feel a different kind of something. in my head. in my hands. my academic father died last night. i don't know how to tell you what this means.


Thursday, October 27, 2005

last night some retards broke into my condo. HA HA RETARDS NOBODY LIVES THERE ANYMORE!!! i would fucking love to know what the fuck those retards said when they broke open the door and found an apartment full of dog hair and a bunch of crap i didn't even want enough to bother moving. oh wait, i know what they said. FUUUUCK.

too bad i should have been like "OH MY GOD WHERE IS MY SAFE THAT IS FILLED WITH THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS!!!" my dad's like i'm surprised they didn't take anything! i'm like even i don't want that shit and it's mine.

i think when the white sox win the world series you are supposed to loot like a store or something not an abandoned apartment. oh i'm sorry the white sox didn't win the world series, WHITE SOX SWEPT THE WORLD SERIES, HELL YES!!!

we drove down to the south side last night it was crazy everyone was partying in the streets. traffic was insane and people were getting up on top of their cars with forties and shit. people were waving bottles of champaign out of their windows. i didn't have any champaign but i had some champaign of beers. kids had brooms out and were sweeping the streets. maybe one day the cubs will sweep the world series. not.

i think maybe i should have partied in the dirty op last night my friends called me from the madison street bars to let me know some lady was handing out lines in the bathroom at scoreboards. hell yes let's all do a rail for the world champion chicago white sox.

hey mike conti, are you ready to move to chicago now?

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

please explain this to me

a history of violence. it's like the retarded flipper baby of a long kiss goodnight and cape fear except it doesn't have samuel l jackson or robert deniro in it and it sucks.

that shit was good up until the ending that wasn't an ending because guess what after it ended it wasn't really over they got like a whole new plot or something. a whole new plot that was stupid as hell and started to remind me of a walker texas ranger episode. if i want to watch walker i can do that shit for free on sunday afternoon or whatever. i'm certainly not paying $8 for that shit.

can someone please explain to me why people liked this movie?

then i saw this kid i know at the movie theater. this kid named max that dresses up like a skinhead except he's against racism.

can someone please explain this to me? i'm against racism too maybe i should start wearing a fucking hood on my head like the ku klux klan i hate racism so much. except i could wear a fucking red pin on it like to show that i am not in fact cut from the same cloth as a klan member. it is simply my clothes that are cut from the same cloth.

i'm just kidding. don't really explain this to me.

it's so hard being smarter than like 94% of idiots around me. sigh.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

fat man in a little coat

oh my god i am getting so fat i can not stand it what the fuck. one time i was fucking fat before because i was drinking beer and eating ramen noodles all the time. kind of like now. being poor makes me fat what the fuck.

being skinny fucking sucks nobody will ever tell you you are getting fat until like six years later you can show them a picture and be like are you seriously telling me i do not look fat as hell in this picture and they will be like actually yeah, you were pretty fat. when you are skinny and you start getting fat people will tell you you look healthy. HA. guess how i got so fucking healthy. cheap booze and cheetos.

pretty soon people will start telling me i have a pretty face. which i don't. it's a euphemism for 'you're so fat no one will ever love you.' when people start telling me i have a pretty face i am going to start throwing up my food. or meth. i'll just do tons of meth.

i'm getting a haircut today. people are going to be like something's different. did you get a haircut? and i'm going to be like no i'm fucking fat. then i'm going to start crying. hell yeah when i'm fat i'm going to be as sensitive as i want to be it will be like a new era. all the emotions i haven't felt in the past 20 years are going to come spewing out of me.

hopefully i'm pregnant. instead of just fat. i'm pretty sure the lady downstairs from us is running some kind of coat hanger abortion clinic out of her apartment so it ain't even a thing. too bad i should totally have the baby it would probably be the most beautiful bluest eyed baby in the universe like it would have to wear sunglasses all the time because if you looked directly into it's eyes you would probably have a stroke or something. that would be fucking awesome, my baby would be a weapon. i could be as fucking fat as i wanted then and if anybody pissed me off about it i'd be like look at my baby bitch, it's my beautiful ticket out of this town.

xani bar would be like why the fuck does this baby look just like me??? i'd be like i have no clue. it's certainly not because it's your neice. have you seen your brother the only way he would be fucking someone as fat as me would be if he had to because we were secretly married. duh.

don't worry i'm not really pregnant. i know because i shed my uterine lining this weekend. i guess i am just fat after all. fuck.

Monday, October 24, 2005

i don't know what fall break is but i'm on it

friday was derrick carter's birthday. HELL YES PARTY LIKE IT'S 1996!

derrick carter spins fantastic house music like they used to play at rave parties in shut down bowling alleys and abaondoned graphite factories in the nineties before everybody was eating ecstasy and rubbing vicks vapo-rub all over their faces and playing with each others hair and throwing glowsticks around listening to trance and being in general RETARDED.

but then on saturday i infiltrated their ranks when i became a...

secret night time logan square candy raver

so friday i was wearing a normal gray shirt and some jeans and i danced and thrashed around a lot and got fucked up and threw up behind some dumpsters and i listened to derrick carter and saw a ton of my friends and saturday i dressed up like a candy raver and walked to a party drinking a 20oz vodka and red pop with jessica and stole someone's dreams. no one wanted to do shots of jager with us. what the fuck.

mike conti called me while i was laying in the alley transient-like but i didn't answer it because i couldn't figure out where the ringing was coming from and the next day there were like seven unsmoked cigarettes in the ashtray because i kept wanting to smoke cigarettes and then changing my mind like four seconds into it. the next day being saturday, the day on which i was still drunk when i started drinking again.

sunday i saw the great love of my life and i laid around his house sighing and hungover with my hand on my head and it was his birthday and i gave him something i found at my house. i also drew him a really awesome comic called 'it's a green light why the fuck aren't we moving.' it has nothing to do with green lights. i drew it in traffic. i have no idea how i manage to lure so many people into the disgraceful mess that is dating me. the sad thing is that he already knew i was like this before. it must be true love.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

kill me now

i came into possession of this thing on saturday. i'm not saying how i came into possession of this thing. okay maybe i stole it. or maybe someone stole it for me or something.

i came into possession of this thing. i don't know what it is really. like i know what it looks like but then it says all this weird shit on this paper that came with it that made me all confused.

anyway i'm pretty sure i'm going to die now because it says that i'm going to be killed on that peice of paper. or something. it's like i'm in a horror movie. yes. i think maybe death by something like going back in time and killing the fetus of me by stabbing my mom in the stomach or something. then i go to dead baby purgatory.

if my mom's fetus gets killed in 1979 suddenly none of you will ever have read my blog and you will get this little feeling in your stomach like you lost something but you won't know what or why. it will only last for like two seconds. maybe someone will somehow remember and then they will be in their own horror movie. WHY IS THERE NO RECORD OF ERIN EVER EXISTING THIS SHIT IS INSANE!!! maybe hayley joel osmont will solve the mystery of it.

of all the things i've ever stole none of them ever said any cryptic shit about me getting killed on it before. fucking hilarious.

Friday, October 21, 2005

lose it

i am so well on my way to becoming the crazy lady around the neighborhood.

i forgot to pack my ipod when i moved so i walk to the train singing every day. like not under my breath. singing LOUDLY. crazy singing lady.

i finally picked up my ipod so now i can walk to the train singing even louder because i can't hear myself. crazy lady walking to the train singing velvet underground songs REALLY LOUDLY. velvet underground songs are not that good to sing to. like i fucking care i can't even hear myself.

then i progressed to dancing. why can't i walk down the street dancing and pretend i'm in a musical? hey there goes crazy singing lady, she's dancing today. velvet underground is not that good to dance to. cajual's future sounds of chicago is good to dance to.

today i winked at someone. woah, crazy lady winking at people like she's a perverted eighty five year old man.

have you seen crazy lady who thinks she's in a musical?

yeah i saw her yesterday screaming MOTHER BITCH at her bronx poodle. that bitch is fucking crazy!

have you ever seen a bronx poodle? this is what a bronx poodle looks like:

there's a guy that lives on the street i grew up on that thinks he is in the 1950s. he has an old old old black car that looks like it might be the first car that was ever invented or something and he wears old old old suits and his old old old curtains are in tatters because he can't get new ones because if he went to a store or something he might accidentally realize it is not 1952 anymore and then his head would implode.

he has a lifesize cardboard cut out of his dead mom seatbelted into his car that he never drives. bates motel. i am hoping that over the years i can acheive the neighborhood crazy status of that guy.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts

the other night i walked around oakpark for hours and hours and hours and i was pretty much in heaven.

i went to the library and three bookstores. THE LIBRARY AND THREE BOOKSTORES.

the oakpark library is enormous and architecturally beautiful and it has tons of awesome shit in it and they show movies there like the corporation that you wanted to see but never saw. i could pretty much live there.

the book table is the best bookstore in the world. all their books are new and discounted or used and cheap as hell so you can get pretty much any book you want for like six dollars which is awesome and they have tons of awesome stuff in there and you can look around for an hour and find things you've never heard of that look incredible like vernon god little which i bought some british version of with nice cover art which is important because i am shallow. and i didn't even have to dig through a bunch of shitty shit to find it.

i'm obsessed with books. if i could marry fictitious novels i would but i would totally be a philanderer and have sordid affairs with periodicals and biographies.

i also went into borders. because i had to pee and i was standing right outside borders. that is why i went into the worst bookstore in the world. i hate stupid sterile borders. i hate their stupid coffee shop and the stupid hippie bongo players that play in their stupid coffee shop and the stupid display tables and the stupid asinine books on the stupid display tables and the stupid armchairs for stupid people to sit in and read stupid asinine books from the stupid display tables. the stupid asinine books that are on display not because of their quality but because they are the right size and shape. guess what, borders is not the first place to have chairs and books, go to the fucking library. i wouldn't even be surprised if borders eventually tries to put libraries out of business like it does to everything else. stupid fucking borders. going into borders makes me feel like i'm dying a little bit. anyway i only went in there to pee.

i hoard books. i like to hoard books i haven't read like a hamster hoards food and if i have like less than three books i haven't read i read ones i've already read so i can save up new books and go on a reading of new books binge. i don't care i like reading books i've already read before. i've read the autobiography of malcom x so many times it split in two. right now i'm reading breakfast of champions.

i was born to read. i taught myself how to do it before i was three years old. i don't remember it being very hard. one of the first books i read was called lafcadio the lion who shot back. one of the other first books i read was cat's cradle. i still absolutely love both of those books.

i don't love all books. i hate shakespeare. i hate the scarlett letter. i remember finishing whole chapters of that book and having no idea what i had just read. that was when i found out i could read and think about something else entirely at the exacct same time. someone once told me that when he reads he reads like EVERY WORD. and this is unique? people exist that do not do this?

i didn't hate every book i read for school. i liked the great gatsby. and a clockwork orange. their eyes were watching god. a clockwork orange was a good book. it's split into three sections, seven chapters each. twenty one all together. that is meaningful. the movie is missing the final chapter. the final chapter is important.

when i was in grade school i used to walk to the library and take out six books at a time. they will not let you take out more than six books. they give you three weeks to return them. i could have read 26 books in six weeks. i was like seven. i didn't have anything else to do. then i would sit outside this school i didn't go to and read and when the streetlights came on i would walk into lampposts and trip over cracks in the sidewalk (break your momma's back) because i read while i walked home and then when i went to bed i would read under the blankets with a flashlight. i remember being scared i would get caught reading when i was supposed to be asleep. i was very scared. later i remember being a little scared but not very that i would get caught snorting heroin up my nose in my bedroom with my best friend. i'm not sure what the fuck happened to me. i don't think i can blame any books i read. junky? less than zero?

sometimes when i'm reading a book i could almost cry because i didn't write it. focus. glamorama. once i read a book called american skin by don degrazia. reading that book i almost could have cried because i COULD have written it. i could have written it better. i gave it away. i never give books away. i'm going to write a book one day. i promise.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

now you know what it's like to be in my head.

i can not fucking wait to go home and eat some ramen noodles. ramen noodles are fucking good and they're only like ten cents. it's like if you have a quarter you could eat for the whole day. i'm going to start carrying ramen noodles around in my giant ugly plastic nine dollar purse and handing them out to all the fucking derelicts that ask me for money every day. i can feed all the transients i pass on the way to work for like one dollar a day. or i could spend the dollar on myself and get some fucking gourmet ramen noodles. i don't really have a dollar. these are pretty much pipe dreams.

i'm just kidding about not having one dollar i actually have a dollar. i actually have like six hundred of them. negative. you would think that means that i like DON'T have six hundred dollars but actually it means that i do have six hundred dollars just they are like incomplete and i need a whole two more dollars to join with it and make it a real dollar. i guess it's like the bank is telling me that for two dollars i can buy one dollar from them and i have to do it because of the elasticity of the demand and say the bank is a monopoly. so it's like i need $1200 to have $600. banks are magic like that. i am waiting for the bank to tell me that i have 600i in there. imaginary numbers. i am going to start keeping my money under my matress again.

i can not fucking wait to go home and eat some motherfucking ramen noodles.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

but i'll destroy it before it sees the light of day.

one time someone thought i was in love. i am not in love i said. laughing. she said why are you laughing? you are a liar. yes i am a liar. that is not why i'm laughing. two months from now i will not care if he dies. love is a lie.

love is a lie. PHENYLETHYLAMINE. OXYTOCIN. put that shit in a basket and set it on fire.

at night i run from people that don't exist. people that want to bind torture kill dismember and rape my dead limbless body. i race myself inside. i shake. ADRENALINE. i drop my keys.

so i say i control my brain. i say i'm the only person on earth with free will. i am not in love.

except he breakdances in his living room. ohhhhh. he breakdances in his living room. SERATONIN. DOPAMINE. TESTOSTERONE. yes. no. yes.

except he made me a giant bracelet out of weird white tape. weird white tape! NOREPINEPHRINE.

if meigs field was still real i would ask him to climb a fence and sit with me on the concrete and watch private planes take off. ENDORPHINS!

tell me you love me and i will pretend i am sleeping. it's a thin line between love and hate an i can easily see myself hating you. he said this to me. HE SAID THIS TO ME. he reads my mind. ACTION POTENTIAL! ACTION POTENTIAL!

i've been seeing him for two months? three months? two months? but he photographed me beautifully when i was 17. i was smoking a cigar and the smoke was all around me you could see it coming out of my mouth and you could tell i hadn't brushed my hair.

you have to love something to photograph it like that. i love garbage. and litter. dead birds. and him.

was this friday?

all my friends are guys.

or we are all androgynous.

or some shit.

he's not heavy he's my brother.

god how ugly we are.

fill me with scorpion venom.

Friday, October 14, 2005

i did not know the blues until i met him

my dad works at a newspaper at night and he comes home and drinks whiskey out of waterford crystal glasses and listens to his ipod and shadowboxes and the next day my mom rolls her eyes and tells him he is a drunk, and crazy.

except last night after work he came over and sat on my balcony and watched me drink a beer and smoke a cigarette and complimented mandy on her fabulous cookies.

we went to a blues club like three blocks from my house which according to the blue's guy at the newspaper is the best blues club in chicago. it's called rosa's and rosa was there and she was about 110 years old and she was dancing behind the bar and her son tony was playing drums with james wheeler and this crazy black blonde bombshell woman came onstage with a whip and sang a song about not wanting no instant breakfast honey you better bring me a real meal. she invited me to her birthday party.

the next guys were fucking awesome i forget what they were called but the one guy's name was chainsaw and the drummer was some young guy wearing an enyce sweatsuit and chainsaw ran out to his car and gave my dad a cd and he told us if we email him he'll write back. they only played like 4 songs and when they were done we were so disappointed we had to leave. the next guys were from austria anyway and what does austria know about the blues?

i think i'm in love with the blues.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

she's crying because she's not omnipotent

i want to do whatever i want WHATEVER I WANT.

i want to smoke as many cigarettes as i can and i want to eat endangered animals and i want my bed to be hanging from chains and i want to climb a ladder to get to it and i want to get as many speeding tickets as i can and i want to drive 160 swiftly wreck it buy a new one and i want to buy a tofurkey for every homeless guy in chicago and i want to blow stuff up and i want to take you to paris and i want seven pit bulls and i want to be in cirque du soleil and i want to tell people what to do and i want a beach house in dogenkent and i want to lay in the sun all day and play tavlah and i want to shoot a gun and i want to send foster kids to exeter and i want to go where everybody knows my name and i want one hundred of those soft red stabilo pencils and i want to fly a plane and i want an ovariohysterectomy and i want to distil my own vodka and i want to read three books every day and i want to be a ballerina in russia and i want to build a car and i want to walk around all night and i want a stereo system installed in my molars so i can listen to music in my head at all times and i want to go to a cock fight and i want you to kill yourself and I want to have a threesome with sarah silverman and amy sedaris and i want to tell the senate to go fuck itself and i want to live in a tree and i want to be able get aids and not die and i want i want to do whatever i want

i really don't think this is too much to ask out of life i really don't.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

nourir moi

on friday i am going to eat a vodka soaked scorpion. i will probably also take my pants off at some point. you should come.

when it gets cold i am going to go to the video store down the street i forget what the fuck it's called probably videoville or something and i'm going to rent shitty shitty videos and wrap myself up in blankets and watch them on my balcony while i drink something hot like coffee but not coffee because i'll be off coffee by then and on to the next thing. i rotate psychotropic agents. ethanol nicotiana glauca cannabis sativa cocaine hydrochloride methylphenidate alprazolam methylxanthine methylenedioxymethamphetamine diacetylmorphineis. ephemeral excess. if you come i will show you the vcr on the balcony and i will say do you have a vcr on your balcony and a shitty video store on your corner and a hot thermos of mentholmethylethanol, NO. NO piping hot menthol meth booze for you!

i'll show you my room. no matter what i do to it it still looks like a crack den i don't know why. i'm going to go with it i guess. i'm going to get a giant bucket of plastic cockroaches and stick up a swarm of them on the wall. i'm going to get creative with choreboy.

i'm going to swallow a scorpion whole on friday and then later when i vomit my brains out i can pick it out of the puke and play with it. then i'm going to rinse it off or not rinse it off and send it to the pants. yes.

endless ephemeral eras of excess in extralegal essences. feed me.


Tuesday, October 11, 2005

my new filing technique is unstoppable

oh my god i am so totally bored at work right now i could die. i could just die!

i can do anything i want with statistics. later i'm going to prove i am awesome. with statistics. data suggests that erin is actually awesome. believe it.

it is so fucking lame that i have to go through irb review in order to analyze data that has already been collected and not publish a paper about it. that is so fucking stupid it could probably make my head explode if i thought about it for too long.

what the fuck am i even supposed to be doing right now? oh yeah, factor analysis. lame. actually i'm only pretending i think that is lame. i actually love factor analysis with all of my heart. i can make it say anything i want it to. it's like mathematical fiction and that is awesome. please don't tell anyone factor analysis is not real. i don't want to lose the power i have over the stupid hr people. they are mesmerised by words like priniciple components and artificial dichotomies.

i get to write some lady an email now telling her she is stupid. if you want to tell someone they are stupid in a business email you have to say 'for future reference.' like for future reference, your customer number is not 299810, it is 299830, you stupid fucking idiot.

tuesdays were the worst days now we drink champaign when we're thirst-ay.

i'm going to go take a nap under my desk now, like mandy, or george costanza.


Monday, October 10, 2005

my future ex husband is a widower and no we are not mormons

having a secret open marriage is awesome like if you go out to eat and you have a super hot waiter you can follow him into the walk in cooler and kiss him and then you get a tax break later awesome and that is awesome.

love and marriage love and marriage go together like coffee and cigarettes and vodka-tussins and you remember the triaminic i'll remember the love and dead birds on the train and onions and teenage suicide don't do it.

yeah right like i really got married on friday what do you think i am a fucking idiot? the only thing my marriage licence is doing is collecting dust. and getting waved in all my gay friends faces while i'm like "hey, you'll never have one of these!"

the only thing more disasterous than dating someone who gets just as bored and has just as stupid ideas of how to relieve boredom than i do would be being married to that person. he is going to be the end of me.

Friday, October 07, 2005

hello moto

my cell phone loves the south side and it is super pissed that i moved it on up to the west side which is really the northwest side but i refuse to admit i live on anything with the word north in it because i hate the north side and now my cell phone thinks it's fucking hilarious dropping all my calls which it never did before but on the west side i have a porch so i can sit out there and talk on the phone all i want so HA HA CELL PHONE I WIN. and my cell phone is like HA HA ERIN, IT IS I THAT WIN because you are getting cancer sitting on the porch and smoking ten million cigarettes and you are going to DIE. why the fuck does my cell phone want to kill me?

oh yeah, probably because i talked on it for like three hours last night about rave parties and 45s and anonymous tricks. did you know that my friends voted me most likely to bring an anonymous trick to the prom? like i would really be going to a prom. i went to a homecoming once with bj armstrong's cousin but i was totally tricked into going and i got some black sleeveless t shirt dress thing at the salvation army and i want to say i wore shell toes but i bleached my hair for it and i did give the guy one of those flower things you're supposed to give them even though i didn't know about those things until the last minute and i had to create it out of my best friend's backyard. bj armstrong's cousin was totally boring and i only stayed for like 20 minutes and i left with a different guy than i came with. so i guess i should have actually been voted most likely to leave prom with a different anonymous trick than she came with. ex girl to next girl.

i live down the street from a cigarette store that is called cigaretteville and the old indian guy that works there thinks i smoke american spirits every time i go in there. hello do i look like a fucking hipster to you? no. i eat hipsters for breakfast. i'm drawing a picture right now of me eating a blowl of hipsters and i'm stuffing my face with them and the tiny hipsters in the spoon are screaming and i have blood on my mouth. it's going to be beautiful. at cigaretteville they always ask me if i am sure i am over 18. uh, i'm pretty sure if i was one of those freak children that get pregnant by their dads at the age of 8 that my inbred freak of a child would be 18 by now. or, like, 16 or something.

random thought post = want to write about something else but am saving it.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

yes indeedy. i wrote graffiti on the bus.

i'm sick to deff y'all and i don't have the internet at my new apartment yet. fuuuuck.

i'm laying around naked with my dirty secret. we fuck then we blow our noses and drink five alive and then we fuck again. sexy.

i'm like vodka is the ointment and he's like let's get some. i'm like can we get some cough syrup too? and then can you asphyxiate me later? he's like i should marry you later.

we forgot to get anything to mix the vodka with so we had vodka and beers. it was kind of like vodka and red bull but better because we were so sick we couldn't taste it anyway. then we had some cough syrup. then we had more vodka. then we had some vodka and cough syrups. that was my genius idea.

we took a boombox outside and sat in the alley leaning against a fence and listening to old rare tapes.

i was drunk and high off vodka and cough syrup and hip hop and my mind was blurry and i thought about how i've been in love with this boy since i was 15 and i always leave and come back and i should probably leave right now before i destroy it and there's nothing to come back to. i don't leave.

he says i'm going to marry you later. he says i thought you were the girl who would go along with anything. i say i am. he says let's get married tomorrow. i look at the sky and say tomorrow is today. when we put our clothes back on there were pigeon feathers all over them.

i was drunk and high off vodka and cough syrup and love (what is love am i in it) and my mind was blurry and we got on a bus and filled out a marriage licence. we were laughing the whole time.

we did not know that illinois has special rules like 24 hour waiting periods so people who are drunk and high off vodka and cough syrup and love (and now the world around me gets to moving in slow motion) can not make a proper mockery of marriage until the next day when they are sober and not stupid. HA HA STATE OF ILLINOIS, I AM ALWAYS STUPID!!!

getting married on friday is going to be hilarious. i don't know what i am going to wear.

the moral of this story is that if you want to marry a girl that never wanted to get married all you have to do is make it a game and a challenge. anyway, if a super secret marriage tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it are you REALLY married? yes, but you can get a divorce for like fifty bucks, it's true, i saw a sign on the blue line today.

today when i got to work there was a feather on my keyboard. what the fuck.


Monday, October 03, 2005

bedroom whiteout

he says i have secrets. i say he is my secret.

i say draw a picture of me. he says we've done this before.

i say shhhh, it's a secret! i say you've made a liar of me.

he says are you just being kind? am i losing my mind?

i say this is not a love song. he says you will be the end of me.

i say yes. yes i will. he says let's do this again.

je suis prete. vous etes prets aussi?

Sunday, October 02, 2005

who cares it's the weekend anyway

the lyrics born show was fucking awesome. lyrics born went on with a band. it was totally packed but we shoved our way to the front using aggressive techniques that look like dancing but are all elbows and shoulders and heels. pigeon john opened up and it was fucking awesome. he was pouring water on people and yelling "we got grown men taking showers!" and he also started taking dollars out of his pockets and giving them to people. who wants a dollar from pigeon john? he played guitar and did a pigeon dance which was fucking hilarious and i think i have a crush on pigeon john now.

i brought the right girl to the show. she got me drunk and drove me back to her place and let me sleep in her bed and bought me breakfast in the morning.
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