Well not really. Here's Annie she is an artist at Three Kings Tattoo where I'ma get my tatz.......!!
It's going to be a lighthouse with some seagulls and it's going to b awesome. Annie is really great and I feel comfortable around her, so that's good. I wouldn't want some creepster to be all up in my business with a sharp needle.
NO THANKS CREEPSTER GET AWAY FROM ME.
Here is some of the pitchers I gave as inspiration:
[insert: in spear nation]
Here is a picture of Harrison Ford
[insert seXXXy]
It's the Oscars™ this weekend™ time for Oscar Parties™
I just got done watchin' GR∑∑K (I know, I know, suck it, I do what I want, you don't know me and other inanities) and this v. spesh episode, (*sigh, aren't they all!) was all 'bout growin' and leaving things behind and choicing things that were important enough to maintain or important enough to acknowledge their impact and leave them behind.
[insert: Greek is totes heavy ya'll]
Annnnnnnyway, the one(?) thing that annoys about time specific genres, ie high school/college teebee shü's is their heavy handed importance placed on the brevity of their experience, as if having a 4 year time stamp somehow makes these moments in our lives more authentic. (<--------Well will you look at that run-on!). The arbitrary 4 years and the whole, "I WISH THESE DAYS WOULD NEVER END," while making good and funny and sad entertainment, kinda forces a viewer to compartmentalize their experiences. Without looking at your history, one can be tricked into thinking that you leave things behind. In reality, I think, you carry these things with you they, grow on you and create the person you have become and a are going to continue to grow into. Like a mold or fungus or weird mole.
By breaking them down and segmenting them off, they are easier to digest, you still gotta take it all in sooner or later. Like the whole pie I ate that one time.
There was a small seed that was planted in the middle of a field. A field that was surrounded with tall willows and birches and populated with poppies, bright red that looked like freshly made kool-aid (a color so vivid it looked unreal, almost to the point of cartoonishness). This seed had giant seed-like dreams; to grow and swell and bloom and perhaps populate the field with others like it so it wouldn't be lonely. If not lonely than at least not alone. So this seed began to anchor itself down and grow. It thought it was a real fucking big shot, with each growing pain the seed felt a twinge of pride, and thought, "Yup, this is my time." What the little seed did not realize, because the seed was too focused on himself, was there was a beautiful masked Green Jay with it's emerald coat that also lived near the field. While, the seed had big dreams and a plan, the Green Jay had dreams, a plan, ambition, plus the fool could fly. Could the seed fly? NO, because it was a seed, duh. The Green Jay spotted this little seed that was now a little sprout. It usually didn't waste it's time with sprouts but it was feeling slightly peckish and fate sometimes sets things in motion that are unfair and unavoidable. So, like a green missile zeroing in on its target the Green Jay swallowed the little sprout that was a little seed in one fell swoop. The sprout/seed didn't see it coming, didn't notice the shadow and in the end didn't feel the quick pluck. So that was the end of the seed.
There was no propagation for the seed. Was it a willow? a poppy? It probably was something kinda lamer, I dunno, and I guess no one will ever know.
and so with that, I've found my self in my apt with KreativeKrisis (in a crisis a'duh) her pussy, alfie, DS7 with Hannah Montana in the background
[insert: yes, yes I know we are everything that's wrong with everything. ever.]
I was about to wax poetical(?) philosophical(?) about it but there is literally nothing redeemable about the HAnzMonTANZ. Even writing about it makes me queasy.
What doesn't make me quee-say is Joanna Newsom NEW ALBUM
IT'S GOING TO BE SO GOOD AND IT IS COMING OUT TOMORRRRRRRRRROW
2/10/10 There was half day at work today. It was kinda awesome. It’s was only kinda awesome b/c, duh, we obvs had to go to work in the first place. And that is NO FUN. unless you work as a…I just spent 10 minutes (only 5) trying think of a job that is fun. I did think of one, but I then quickly chastised myself on having dreams. Ef ya’ll dreamz. So anywinterishere, we had half a dizzy at wizzy (ugh why do I do that?). But it was basically like not being at work at all b/c everyone was all excited about getting the h-town outa doge. So peeps had a lot of energy and it made the half a day go super fast. Then I went home and SLEPT. My favorite pastime.
Sleeping Eating Writing And Memorizing. (I guess Reading too but evz I ain’t smart)
The snowy day has nice b/c, besides the whole no work/more sleep thing, it just reminded me of being young. Waking up in the morning turning on channel 4 and waiting for Huron County public schools to be closed. It would still be dark enough out, that falling right back to sleep would be as easy as falling asleep the night before, anticipating a snow day, was difficult. Then boom, out like a light until the sun rose for real this time. Putting on the standard, or perhaps, sub-standard snow gear, (fuck snow pants), and heading out to frolic in the snow. Or later getting up late, then having to walk to school n e ways, because we still had rehearsal/practice and those sets weren’t going to paint/build themselves. Those lines won’t be learned themselves (even though they totally would’ve been...psych!). Those push-ups/sit-ups laps wouldn’t do/run themselves (nope they wouldn’t’ve…ya burnt). But it was still fun b/c it wasn’t school. Then EVEN LATER, what? no class? time to drink! Welcome to college, when any excuse was one to drink. Writing a paper? Finished a paper? Exam? Good rehearsal? Bad rehearsal? Good sex? Bad sex? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Friend issues? Thursday? Snow Day?
Drink.
Oh lordy, thanks America for a generation of, somewhat, intelligent alcoholics.
Back to the point (?). Snow days are nice. Even though I did none of those things. The memories the snow day brought back were nice and also the underlying feeling that they could happen was still there. I could go out and play or drink. But instead since I’m a sixty year old trapped in a 23 year olds body with the vocabulary of a thirteen year old (girl), I just went to sleep and watched Clue!
