for some reason i thought those bloomer-style underwears were the shit as in dead-sexy and cute. that was back when life was like, trash-city.

anyway, last nite i didn’t make it ’til dave chapelle, i fell asleep on fil and he got up to go to bed and then called me over and i was in a sitting up position with my arms folded into my body like an old man or a troll.

and then i dreamed about the big bottle of apple juice that fil bought, oh excitement! we had gone to the company and were complaining about the size of the bottle. (one of those bulk-size ones that housewives buy for their 7 children) i said bitch it’s like holding a mountain to my face and trying not to spill it all over myself. i was demanding several smaller bottles.

then i dreamt of other crap involving violence and floating and candy, i dunno.

we recorded at band practise last nite. can’t wait to hear how stupid and warbly i sound.

my comeback of the evening is as follows:

“oh, did you drink a cup of smart-ass on your way over?”

i am the best. me!

i just wasted several minutes going through my archives and it has inspired me to cut my bangs shorter, to never get fat and to never have a lesbo short haircut and to also maybe do something more with my time, like, crochet stuffed animals and donate them to the red cross or maybe learn a valuable trade.