monsterfreetokyo

went to the burlesque show tonight at the knitting factory. bought some SG panties (the pink ones. i mean, come on.), missed a lot of hot stuff 'cause eight foot guys always, always insist on standing directly in front of me. fuckers. so, i went ahead and got myself good and drunk on pepsi & malibu (the bartender actually bought one of 'em for me. score!), relocated to a spot in the front, but off to the right, and enjoyed the show. definitely let my belligerence get the best of me and screamed to Reno that she was, and i quote, "a fucking fox", and also told Nixon that she was "hot sex". yeah, i'm usually not rowdy like that. hello, liquid courage. foxy stuff, though, glad it was such a good time for everyone. the journey back wasn't too bad, either, everything arrived just in time to connect with our next necessary step. i love it when that happens, 'cause i've spent many a night waiting in the ferry terminal, being talked at by crazies or drunks, or just trying to make my music loud enough that i wouldn't pass out where i stood/sat.

god, i fucking hate manhattan. yeah, yeah, cry to me about it, i don't care how amazing it's supposed to be. it makes my skin crawl, more often than not.

anyway, yeah, so...why are so many of the boys i meet so fucking worthless? even when they're genuinely good, mushy guys, they just turn to shit in my hands. ahh, the reverse midas strikes again. fuck that game.

you know what? my bed is incredibly comfortable & sleeping is a lot cooler than making vague blog posts about how boys are mean to me. i mean, seriously now.