Thank you all for the delicious comments on the photoset, your input is greatly appreciated and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, either that or someone shoved a hamster up my ass while I was asleep.
I haven't updated in awhile because I was in Philly for two weeks and had limited access to the internet...then I got home and discovered that I can't browse the web on my PC for whatever reason. Fucking A, man. I just can't win.
So...while in Philly, I was officially asked out by Steve aka my good friend/fellow peer at AI/SG photographer. I accepted this proposition and we are now a couple. And there was much rejoicing and moistening of the panties.
The trip brought with it few noteworthy things, none of which anyone but me will give two flying fucks about, but this is my journal, AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO EVERY WORD I HAVE TO SAY! (part in caps is a quote from Adam Sandler in the Wedding Singer, in case you didn't know already)...
Before the trip, my friend Jim delivered a HUGE-ass bag of fortune cookies that our mutual friend Chris bought. I am talking massive amounts of fortunes here, like, 80...hundred or something. Well, maybe just 80. Either way, I brought the fortune cookies with me, and they came in handy one night when everyone decided to get high. I don't condone pot smoking in any way, but admittedly, it was a lot of fun.
I went to my first karaoke bar with Steve, his roomate Scott, and Scott's girlfriend, Christina. Christina and I sang Like a Virgin and I Touch Myself together, Scott made an attempt to sing a System of a Down song without knowing the song beforehand, and Steve sang nothing until the very end of the night when pretty much everyone that was left in the bar got up and sang Bohemian Rhapsody together. It was fun times, especially because Christina and I were served alcoholic beverages underage, and the bartender totally knew and did not give a shit. I also sang Criminal by Fiona Apple, which was okay, but I was definitely way too stiff and should have gotten into the song more. Well, maybe the next karaoke bar will bring with it a better performance.
The only scary thing about that night was the DJ was kind of creepy. He reminded me of a shorter, goofier version of Snape from Harry Potter. For the last song of the night, he got on the mic and sang a song called "Blow Me"...no, not Kid Rock's version, it was more Frank Sinatra style only the lyrics were soooo dirty and wrong. I found it hilarious, but Steve was holding me quite protectively and urging me not to egg him on, which I of course did anyway. What's Snapey gonna do, put the Imperius curse on me and make me hump his leg in the parking lot after the show? Yeah, that's only funny if you read Harry Potter...so if you don't already, I suggest you go out and buy all the books and start reading them immediately.
I was also introduced to a novel little spot in the universe known as the Grease Trucks. Grease Trucks? What's that? I'll fucking tell you. You know those silver trailor-looking things where you order food from a single vendor, and they generally offer things like burgers and stuff like that? Well, there was a bunch of them all in a collective group, although it seemed as though only two of them are ever open, and both were run by guys who sounded like auctioners with Greek accents. They didn't just ask what you wanted. They'd yell..."Who's next in line?", you'd order your food, and then they'd restate your order out loud to everyone else that was within earshot. They seemed especially excited whenever someone would order a Fat Bitch. They'd say, "Allright, we've got a Bitch, Bitch...Bitch.." maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but that's the impression I got. It was a really entertaining experience. And as you can imagine, it's been dubbed the grease trucks because the food is really bad for you. They put french fries in all of their sandwiches. Weird.
I also went to see Wedding Crashers with Steve and his friend Chris and Chris' girlfriend Stacey. I think that was their names. If you haven't seen it yet, you absolutely must. It's fucking hilarious, and it actually manages to be kind of a chick flick in some ways, but not in ways that would be detrimental to a man's health if he were to view the movie.
I went to a complete stranger's party with Steve, Steve's brother Mark, and Mark's girlfriend, Amanda. We seem to travel in foursomes a lot, and the foursomes are usually comprised of two couples. Anyway, this person had an inground pool, and NOBODY WAS IN IT! There had to be over 20 people there, and nobody was in the pool. Well, Amanda and I fixed that by going in first before anyone else. Then these two other girls I don't know decided to follow suit and came in shortly after we did. I was messing around with Amanda and some other guy Scott in the pool, not the aforementioned Scott however, and accidentally hit one of said girls in the face with a ball. You know, normally I'd feel bad, but she was being kind of a cunt, so, well...fuck her. I still apologized to her, though. She wasn't being mean enough for me to not say sorry, but she was being mean enough for me to not actually feel that bad about it.
The day I got back from Philly, I lost my bus tickets and had to purchase more. What a waste of money. I'm really annoyed because as I was walking to the bus station with Steve, I felt around my back pockets at least twice while we were walking, and the tickets were there. Then low and behold, once we arrived at the bus station, they were totally gone, nowhere to be found. The lady at the help desk was a real bitch. I asked if the tickets could be reprinted since I had my ID and all my information was probably already on file, and she said, "No. Next in line!" She didn't even make an attempt to see if there was a loophole somewhere that would allow her to help me in my unfortunate situation. Fuck you, help desk lady!
Tonight I went to the diner with a wedding photographer that I work with on occassion aka Bud. We went on his motorcycle, which wasn't too bad, but I had this ominous premonition that we were going to die. I think it's in part because before he picked me up, he told me that he's working on a book about different ways he and his friends are going to die. I thought us getting killed on a motorcycle could be one of them, especially when a deer almost ran right out in front of us.
If anyone has actually read this far, I commend you for having an amazing attention span. If I was a stranger, I would not have read this journal entry this far. In fact, after the third paragraph I would have been like, "fuck it." and moved on.
Must get sleep now. Thank you all again for not throwing cyber tomatoes at me once my set went up. Cyber tomatoes. What the fuck am I thinking. Goodnight.
I haven't updated in awhile because I was in Philly for two weeks and had limited access to the internet...then I got home and discovered that I can't browse the web on my PC for whatever reason. Fucking A, man. I just can't win.
So...while in Philly, I was officially asked out by Steve aka my good friend/fellow peer at AI/SG photographer. I accepted this proposition and we are now a couple. And there was much rejoicing and moistening of the panties.
The trip brought with it few noteworthy things, none of which anyone but me will give two flying fucks about, but this is my journal, AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO EVERY WORD I HAVE TO SAY! (part in caps is a quote from Adam Sandler in the Wedding Singer, in case you didn't know already)...
Before the trip, my friend Jim delivered a HUGE-ass bag of fortune cookies that our mutual friend Chris bought. I am talking massive amounts of fortunes here, like, 80...hundred or something. Well, maybe just 80. Either way, I brought the fortune cookies with me, and they came in handy one night when everyone decided to get high. I don't condone pot smoking in any way, but admittedly, it was a lot of fun.
I went to my first karaoke bar with Steve, his roomate Scott, and Scott's girlfriend, Christina. Christina and I sang Like a Virgin and I Touch Myself together, Scott made an attempt to sing a System of a Down song without knowing the song beforehand, and Steve sang nothing until the very end of the night when pretty much everyone that was left in the bar got up and sang Bohemian Rhapsody together. It was fun times, especially because Christina and I were served alcoholic beverages underage, and the bartender totally knew and did not give a shit. I also sang Criminal by Fiona Apple, which was okay, but I was definitely way too stiff and should have gotten into the song more. Well, maybe the next karaoke bar will bring with it a better performance.
The only scary thing about that night was the DJ was kind of creepy. He reminded me of a shorter, goofier version of Snape from Harry Potter. For the last song of the night, he got on the mic and sang a song called "Blow Me"...no, not Kid Rock's version, it was more Frank Sinatra style only the lyrics were soooo dirty and wrong. I found it hilarious, but Steve was holding me quite protectively and urging me not to egg him on, which I of course did anyway. What's Snapey gonna do, put the Imperius curse on me and make me hump his leg in the parking lot after the show? Yeah, that's only funny if you read Harry Potter...so if you don't already, I suggest you go out and buy all the books and start reading them immediately.
I was also introduced to a novel little spot in the universe known as the Grease Trucks. Grease Trucks? What's that? I'll fucking tell you. You know those silver trailor-looking things where you order food from a single vendor, and they generally offer things like burgers and stuff like that? Well, there was a bunch of them all in a collective group, although it seemed as though only two of them are ever open, and both were run by guys who sounded like auctioners with Greek accents. They didn't just ask what you wanted. They'd yell..."Who's next in line?", you'd order your food, and then they'd restate your order out loud to everyone else that was within earshot. They seemed especially excited whenever someone would order a Fat Bitch. They'd say, "Allright, we've got a Bitch, Bitch...Bitch.." maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but that's the impression I got. It was a really entertaining experience. And as you can imagine, it's been dubbed the grease trucks because the food is really bad for you. They put french fries in all of their sandwiches. Weird.
I also went to see Wedding Crashers with Steve and his friend Chris and Chris' girlfriend Stacey. I think that was their names. If you haven't seen it yet, you absolutely must. It's fucking hilarious, and it actually manages to be kind of a chick flick in some ways, but not in ways that would be detrimental to a man's health if he were to view the movie.
I went to a complete stranger's party with Steve, Steve's brother Mark, and Mark's girlfriend, Amanda. We seem to travel in foursomes a lot, and the foursomes are usually comprised of two couples. Anyway, this person had an inground pool, and NOBODY WAS IN IT! There had to be over 20 people there, and nobody was in the pool. Well, Amanda and I fixed that by going in first before anyone else. Then these two other girls I don't know decided to follow suit and came in shortly after we did. I was messing around with Amanda and some other guy Scott in the pool, not the aforementioned Scott however, and accidentally hit one of said girls in the face with a ball. You know, normally I'd feel bad, but she was being kind of a cunt, so, well...fuck her. I still apologized to her, though. She wasn't being mean enough for me to not say sorry, but she was being mean enough for me to not actually feel that bad about it.
The day I got back from Philly, I lost my bus tickets and had to purchase more. What a waste of money. I'm really annoyed because as I was walking to the bus station with Steve, I felt around my back pockets at least twice while we were walking, and the tickets were there. Then low and behold, once we arrived at the bus station, they were totally gone, nowhere to be found. The lady at the help desk was a real bitch. I asked if the tickets could be reprinted since I had my ID and all my information was probably already on file, and she said, "No. Next in line!" She didn't even make an attempt to see if there was a loophole somewhere that would allow her to help me in my unfortunate situation. Fuck you, help desk lady!
Tonight I went to the diner with a wedding photographer that I work with on occassion aka Bud. We went on his motorcycle, which wasn't too bad, but I had this ominous premonition that we were going to die. I think it's in part because before he picked me up, he told me that he's working on a book about different ways he and his friends are going to die. I thought us getting killed on a motorcycle could be one of them, especially when a deer almost ran right out in front of us.
If anyone has actually read this far, I commend you for having an amazing attention span. If I was a stranger, I would not have read this journal entry this far. In fact, after the third paragraph I would have been like, "fuck it." and moved on.
Must get sleep now. Thank you all again for not throwing cyber tomatoes at me once my set went up. Cyber tomatoes. What the fuck am I thinking. Goodnight.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
Thats all I need to know.. you are instantly cool in my book.
Tane