i hate confrontations and i hate wussiness and i hate grade school bullshit and students freak me out and i don’t like coke hangovers or weird people you don’t know getting all crazy on ya and i don’t like standing and waiting for taxi cabs looking like a doofus and i don’t like ruined parties and people feeling bad and i don’t like leaving people ten zillion voicemail messages in a row because i’m OCD and i don’t like my roommate saying i’m a hypocrite and that i yelled at her for not washing dishes.
aww..I wish I was there at the rap show. I woulda stood right there in the front screaming, “woooo…raaaayyymiiii!!!!…wooohooooo….!!” And danced around and slam danced and stage dived even when the track skipped. Stage diving at a rap show. you ask? Well, yes, indeed. Because I would’ve been so excited to see the beautiful and talented miss raymi up close, live and in person. I would’ve waited for you at the stage door after the show and asked you to sign my ass, and then I would’ve high tailed it straight to the tattoo parlor to have your signature etched forever onto my pearly white bottom. Then I would’ve rushed back out to find you at some after party, or a Denny’s or something and stared at you with puppy dog eyes until one of your friends came over to me and said, “hey man, you’re like creeping her out, why don’t you just get lost?” And I’d be all like, “It’s cool, I know her…I just want to show her my tattoo…rayymii….it’s me…hey…over here…” And I’d pull my pants down right there in front of the salad bar screaming across the restaurant to you…”raayymmiii…look….” And then the manger would come over and tell me I had to leave and I’d say,”it’s ok, she’s my friend” And then they’d drag me out and toss me to the curb and I’d still be all happy because I got to see you. Hmmm..then what?…Then I suppose I’d go home to look at my ass in the mirror.
So the rap show last nite was, um, interesting. At one point the room was full and i was nervous and then the room emptied and i got more nervous and then i went to the front to say my three little lines and i almost barfed and then the track skipped two-thirds thru the song so i just stood there like a honkybitch, holding the mic and feeling very shy. Before even going up there I almost wussed-out twenty times. I sat nursing beers at the Dun rite Inn trying to figure out if i should do it or not and then i was told there would be no camera to document the evening so then it felt like a waste but, in the end, dave said, “you can’t wuss out” so then i was like, “fine.”
At least i didn’t get stabbed.
This place rules. Check out Ghetto Neel and Wafro and other dumb photo collages.
ooooh i see the mailman coming up the street. RRrrreeeeeeooooooW.
Who knew Kahlua ‘n milk about 11am gives you that funny little feeling in your stomache – the one you get after about four beers. Nice. Last nite Mod club was dead but i still danced around a bit and tried to hump people and i touched this girl’s butt and she smiled so i told her she was beautiful and i liked her outfit and she was a good dancer and then i felt sleazy so i walked away real fast. Went back to the gang’s place and tried to do old jazz routines and generally spazzed around the livingroom until my knees exploded. I can’t wait to take a cabride.
I’m sorry what? Hello? Yes it is all true. I am going to be doing dumb things tomorrow nite at the Hooch with Coolhandluke around eleven-thirty. i don’t even know where that place is THAT’S how fucking cool i am. I will just stand there in the background going, “aww yeh” and ” word muthafucka’ ” while he raps. RAP MUSIC!?!?! Woah, Woah, Slow down Coolio. i don’t even know if you should come. I am so having a nervous breakdown right now. Raymi freestyles? Who knew. I hope we are as good as Gospel Troops
It’s fuckin’ raining. I hate that. It ruins everything. My outfit, my hair, my plans, my life! However, it has helped me get it on with my favourite mode of transportation – the Taxi Cab. Man, that shit steals. Fuck you, people waiting for the bus. Fuck you, people walking with umbrellas. Fuck you bicycle! I love spending money on things i don’t really need to be spending money on. And i also love bribing people with 4 dollar meals from Kos to hang out with me. Like our favourite Asshole. Now what was I going to say? Oh right, I stood in the rain for ten minutes trying to make a new voicemail greeting because the asshole said i sounded like i was dying of a heroin overdose on it. So my signal kept failing and I kept getting rained-on and my message sounded all warbly so in the end it just says, “Leave a message.”
I am also dying my hair again. It’s true. My roots are outta control. I figure the bleach blond highlights will still come thru and look somewhat cool with this red brassy color.
Oh right, i was spotted three times last nite at the chicksonspeed/peaches show. Guess how important that made me feel?
This girl is in love with me so that means i am in love with her too but coolhandluke is in love with her more and is worried about me linking her because he wants her all to his fat stupid self. but whatever. we love sixteen year olds.
xo
so i’m going to this peaches and chicks on speed and other acts type show thing tonite except i’m going to be fashionably late and i am going to sit in the back on a stool drinking domestics and pretending to pay attention to what is going on up at the front and fuck i might even play space impact II on my cell phone and smoke cigarettes and make frequent bathroom breaks. Coolhandluke bought me a ticket because he owes me ten million favours.
