desdenova

Can anybody else think of a reason for me to bother getting dressed and leaving the house today?
No?
Good, neither can I.

Ive listened to this song at least 10 times today:

Buenos Tardes Amigo
Hola, my good friend
Cinco de Mayo's on Tuesday
And I hoped we'd see each other again
You killed my brother last winter
You shot him three times in the back
In the night I still hear mama weeping
Oh mama, still dresses in black
I looked at every fiesta
For you...
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Be it ever so humble....

Jiggity jig...

And all that jazz.

I'll post a real update when I don't feel like passing out with my face on the keyboard.

Desdenovas LA Sojourn
Volume 1: THE FLIGHT

Flight #1 Numbers:
# Of

-Baileys and coffees consumed= 5.
-Gallons of Baileys and coffee laced urine voided during flight= roughly nine and a half.
-Motherfuckers hissed under my breath during take off and landing of unwieldy winged monstrosity= 213.
-Mormons offended while struggling to remove bag from overhead bin= The exact same as the number of Mormons...
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In less than five hours I board a plane bound for LA.
California needs to prepare to be smacked in the face by a ravening thrust of redheaded awesome.*



*I can't make any guarantees on the validity of that claim.
Depending on who you ask, people might tell you I'm more of a shriveled pile of redheaded mediocrity.

Occasionally, flying makes me nervous.
Luckily Doctor Desdenova has prescribed a quantity of alcohol to be consumed while in the air.
The man is a medical genius.

I've decided to start work on a mathematical equation proving that for every alcoholic beverage you consume, your witty comments become exponentially less amusing.
It will be titled, "The Desdenovic Equation."

I love you, but I hate you,
which brings to mind how much I love you.
We couldve worked this out you know,
In a little room; in a little locked room.
Im sorry you had to settle for Dave.
The one-dimensional man.
Hes filed under cocksucker in my little black book.
Sweetness can rot your teeth.
Bittersweet.
Cacophony.
But you hold the key; you...
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Update:
Googley eyes cut short due to SPLITTING headache.
Film at never o'clock.

"What did you ever see in a little old freak like me?"

I'm off to to go be all googley eyed at a girl playing a theremin.
This is the life.

How I Spent My Friday Evening
By Scott Desdenova

Every so often, a night comes along where you realize that your time on this planet is finite. Perhaps this frightens you into introspection, causing life altering changes, or a newfound sense of duty. I might as well just let you off the hook now and admit that my Friday didn't have a hell of a...
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I want to sleep like these "normal" people I hear so much about.