*humph.*
I wish Sicily's mom would paint me more rocks so I could throw them at people.
I wish I wasn't wasting half a pitcher of margaritas on the computer.
I wish I knew if Lori had fed the cat.
Yesterday I was so depressed I gave myself a bikini wax just for the endorphion rush.
I wish Sicily's mom would paint me more rocks so I could throw them at people.
I wish I wasn't wasting half a pitcher of margaritas on the computer.
I wish I knew if Lori had fed the cat.
Yesterday I was so depressed I gave myself a bikini wax just for the endorphion rush.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
A bikini wax might have made it worse for me though. Ouch.
But in the meantime:
Tonight, there's The Fencesitter's Ball at Rawhide, where the sexually indecisive play sexual shotgun at any available gender; it's pretty fun, although I'm going to hop to the Rickshaw Stop later on, because that's where the fashionista cokeheads hang out, and bop to eighties music. It's a fabulous lurking environment, if you can listen to The Killers without wanting to rip your ears off.
And tommorow, there's Die Machinen If you're lame, and Pop Rocks if you're nasty; it's not "all goth, all the time", but even the goths get their dark, shady sugar on. And the bartenders are CRUEL.
It's a blast, you should come.
[Edited on Jun 24, 2005 2:45PM]