I'm about to gorge on spaghetti. Just woke up from a nap. Returned home from camping, showered, and hit the moforkin' hay.

Camping was a goddamned blast. We had a decent site, even though the whole damn place was crowded. The irst weekend of summer, technically, brought bazillions out to camp. Great idea, too. Perfect weather.

There were friends and friends of friends in and out of the campgrounds all weekend. A total rotating party, with plenty of food and beer to deal with all comers and goers. And I actually liked all the people there. There's nothing like sitting around a campfire, getting high and drinking beer, listening to the big city public radio station's all-night music show, and requesting some James Brown over a cellphone. The DJ loved it as much as we did.

The rest was pretty much 20-something jabbering, shows of intelligence, and showing off my command of trivia. And, y'know, girls in swimsuits. Probably *under-aged* girls in swimsuits, but so long as it's looky-but-no-touchy, things are fine. Yeah?

Speaking of lust... I have a friend who I'm terribly hot for... and that's about the only way I can relate to her. We get along, but barely conenct in any way whatsoever. It must be something I don't understand, because she gets along incredibly well with one of my best friends, and if there's anyone more like me than him, I don't know the guy. Hh. Frustration.

:: Voltaire said on Jun 21, 2002 12:12 PM
Wow... a cute boy that actually thinks I'm hot...coooooooool..... ::

Even after all the fun and laughs I had, this made my damn weekend. I should post something sweet in Miss Voltaire's journal. She needs a bit of cheeriness, I believe.

Holy jeez, that was long. Thanks for reading this far, all two of you.