this is my best friend.

i am in no way proud of any of this, it was friday night and fights are stupid, you can punch the guy 10 times but you still get corked once. it hurts your mouth and anyway i punched the guy a lot of times but got punched much more than this. it happened so late on friday with my best friend since we were 3, whiskey + various drugs consumed and a dying party. i think he kicked my guitar in the back and i suppose i would have punched him in the neck, that’s how it would have started. it happened on a place called the stoop which is really just a stairway leading to a house. we went toe to toe for a while but i wound up on a the lower stair and literally saw total white flashes, also i’m kinda small and he’s pretty fat. and taller. we made another drink after and there was some commotion so i hid the blood away in my hat and hair because my sister couldn’t look – she sees blood then faints, but we all had a good laugh about it. the next day my nose was sort of crooked.

okay a phone call w/ joe just verifies that he did kick my guitar and it was because i turned the doors off – we were gettin yappy after that and we talked about fighting but apparently i just shot the shit normally until my smoke was done and then turned on him, snakey-like. that’s not good. i didn’t even see my guitar through all this, i just remember a friend telling me that she got kicked and was broken. i was distraught.

love ryan

tony and i speak again. i haven’t listened to it yet so i apologize for gayness in advance.

i fucking hate everybody who reads jen‘s blog. everything she says and does is critisized to no end and for what, because gosh gee she is married to matt and oh no now your chance of marrying matt is nil. the funny thing about being friends with them is all the fucking trolls that have come over here and to fil’s blog cos they want to leech off someone who knows someone who is friends with somebody who once hung out with matt good. fucking a. do you know how much of a loser you are to go and verbally attack the wife of someone you are a fan of in their blog which has nothing to with you whatsoever? jen’s blog is fun fluff like my blog and most people’s and she is ‘dissed time and time again.

i bet if she were fat and ugly you guys would be nice to her you fucking wannabe fascist piece of gay plaid wearing hicks with shitty blogs who think hanging out in your parent’s livingroom with ten friends playing cards on a saturday nite is the shit.

i know i am like totally the coolest person ever and i can’t help it that everything i say and do is beyond the realm of awesome.

yesterday my mum called me chunky.

we went to the drive-in to see skeleton key and the 40 year old virgin.

in the car next to us there was this chick with the hugest ass ever and every time she got up to mix a drink or whatever i was like FIL FIL FIL LOOOOOOOOOK.

i hate myself.

there’s a bicycle we’ve dubbed the liquor store bicycle. we take turns riding it to, where else? both tires are flat and only the right handbreak works, it’s an ugly yellow and the seat is too high. it really is an embarassment to be seen on so we normally take the backstreet. we never lock it and it never gets stolen.

i love that bike.

In 2003 lots of mediocre celebrities wrote children’s books for adult fans. Kid Koala decided to take his “Nufonia Must Fall” release and signing on the road, doing a live soundtrack to the illustrations in small clubs across, wherever. A piano and set of turntables playing to a slide show, except the slides never really advanced, and the book was mostly unremarkable and inevitably outshined by Bush dropping bombs on Baghdad that night.

Hey.

I had a dream where I met you and you lived in some government housing. But
it was nice shit and cost like $10 000 per year. Which seems steep for
government housing. I don’t think you have to pay for government housing.
Anyway, you showed me around the complex or whatever, and then we started to
fuck right outside. You should feel special because this was my first girly
dream ever. You said in the dream that you liked people to watch. But I
wasn’t really into it and quickly stopped. I don’t really know what any of
it means, nor do I care. I just think it’s fucked that I could dream about
someone I’ve only seen in pictures. And you were short in the dream. Are you
short in real life?

-Jessica