artpunk

so, i have finished work. yay!
insert excitement.

now back to the evil bitch that is my novel.
how i love her so, my novel. yes. bitch.
and if it werent against the holy laws of god and man i would have a threesome with my electric, acoustic and bass guitars. baby.

i need to get out more, or less. i am not sure which yet.
but one of them surely.

i saw a friend the other day. she is moving to LA. i am sad. all the pretty girls in my life keep leaving. no really, they keep fucking going overseas. damnit. but it was good, we caught up and i broke her, before 8pm, she was totally drunk and out of it.
ah, it was entertaining; i like talking shit, getting dunk and high, smoking cigarettes and all with beautiful, intelligent, witty women.

she doesnt have any tatts though. that is sad. very sad.

i climbed a tree today. i did it for a friend. because she was on my mind. as is increasingly common these days

i am going to do some things. yes. before i leave for England on my short sojourn.
ooh, i like that word, sojourn.
sojourn.

so, things, things like sleep-in, drink, smoke, debaunchary all round in general actually. and i think i might dredge up that little list of numbers that i have, somewhere.

i wonder, are any of you on it? and would you still answer my call?




hey look! a tumbleweed.

take care yall.

Z out.