Today, I saw Donald Sutherland get stabbed to death by a midget. In a movie. True story!

I'm fingering the newly grown in, unstraightened, tough, thick little curls of my hair in transition (returning to nature, v. prarie reclamation, v. Illiniois,), thinking "You're darling. You need to die." If I can remember to make necessary appointments, oh, OH the resistance this fro will recieve. Can you hear the cries of the curls?

Finished last major reading assignment for Gothic Lit. I rock.

Last night was concluded terribly. I think the State Chess Champion of Iowa (coat yourself with a thin, glistening veneer of vaginal juices at the very mention thereof or prepare to suffer the icy rhetorical wrath of a man who looks and sounds like Santino from Project: Runway) needs to die. Preferably when I shank him. I have never met the State Chess Champion of Iowa (omgwtfbbq he's at invitationals RIGHTNOW!!!!!). Long story. Will tell in person on request for food. Request, as in I did not request that this man speak to me, I did not get all up in his grill when not even invited to the barbecue. Suffice it to say, do all chess clubs suck? Is that fair to conclude if you've never been to one but one has been to you? (Iiiiiiii've been to paradise...) And who meets at House of Aromas? Like, who sets out that their club will meet at House of Fucking Aromas once weekly, who DOES that?

So Diana from P:R is lost to us forever, though we still have SantIago. I'm going to go listen to Bright Eyes and sob uncontrollably about it until I develop cataracts, so have fun not doing that.

Tonight was v. nice, though due to the mascinations of everyone's favorite barnyard animal, we didn't get to see Munich. We'll do it later, when our schedules combine and we form Captian Planet. So about next September.

Drunk and high gems:

"You may be Lubavich, but you're also a jackass." (Not actually spoken to the neighbors in question, god, wouldn't that be a rumble in the hood. Can you say West Side Story? If not, say "crazy" or "cool," with the knowledge that while your choice is optional, the ensuing gang war is not.)
Placenta macrame sculpture (which doesn't seem funny any more? but still seems v. tasteful)
Episode III:
"My Dinner with Anakin" with excellent sucessive jokes
the "and stuff" game

Today, I saw Donald Sutherland get stabbed to death by a midget. In a movie. True story!

I'm fingering the newly grown in, unstraightened, tough, thick little curls of my hair in transition (returning to nature, v. prarie reclamation, v. Illiniois,), thinking "You're darling. You need to die." If I can remember to make necessary appointments, oh, OH the resistance this fro will recieve. Can you hear the cries of the curls?

Finished last major reading assignment for Gothic Lit. I rock.

Last night was concluded terribly. I think the State Chess Champion of Iowa (coat yourself with a thin, glistening veneer of vaginal juices at the very mention thereof or prepare to suffer the icy rhetorical wrath of a man who looks and sounds like Santino from Project: Runway) needs to die. Preferably when I shank him. I have never met the State Chess Champion of Iowa (omgwtfbbq he's at invitationals RIGHTNOW!!!!!). Long story. Will tell in person on request for food. Request, as in I did not request that this man speak to me, I did not get all up in his grill when not even invited to the barbecue. Suffice it to say, do all chess clubs suck? Is that fair to conclude if you've never been to one but one has been to you? (Iiiiiiii've been to paradise...) And who meets at House of Aromas? Like, who sets out that their club will meet at House of Fucking Aromas once weekly, who DOES that?

So Diana from P:R is lost to us forever, though we still have SantIago. I'm going to go listen to Bright Eyes and sob uncontrollably about it until I develop cataracts, so have fun not doing that.

Tonight was v. nice, though due to the mascinations of everyone's favorite barnyard animal, we didn't get to see Munich. We'll do it later, when our schedules combine and we form Captian Planet. So about next September.

Drunk and high gems:

"You may be Lubavich, but you're also a jackass." (Not actually spoken to the neighbors in question, god, wouldn't that be a rumble in the hood. Can you say West Side Story? If not, say "crazy" or "cool," with the knowledge that while your choice is optional, the ensuing gang war is not.)
Placenta macrame sculpture (which doesn't seem funny any more? but still seems v. tasteful)
Episode III:
"My Dinner with Anakin" with excellent sucessive jokes
the "and stuff" game