I'll have time for you both

Kay and Jay enter the room SR. The room is empty except for a single chair with Him. There is a door SL wich leads into the bathroom.

Jay - ...O.K. O.K. cool, let's get started.

Kay - That's all?

Jay - What?

Kay - Look

Beat

Beat

Jay - she really did a number on him.

Beat

Him - It's not a big deal.

I don't know why, what anyone was worried about.

It's nothing.

Nothing but silence and emptiness.

But the maggots in eyes.

That did feel weird.

Well it didn't feel like anything,

I just knew that it should feel like something.

I'm not mad at what happened.

I don't think I Deserve it.

I don't think it's Fair.

But I'm not Mad.

I just.

I just didn't know what I was doing.

I didn't think.

I guess that's what stuck with me.

I didn't think.

That's what she kept saying.

Over.

Over.

Over.

Think.

Think.

Just think, I just couldn't.

So, If I could've stopped it.

I guess I would've because then I would be thinking.

Thinking about what?

Thinking about something

about somewhere

...

...

about about about about

...

something.

Instead, just here.

Maggots in my eyes.

Things eating away

Falling away

Fuck. just look at me.

Kay - Cool, let's start.

Jay - Wait, how come you can say that?

Kay - Because, I have taken the time to appreciate what Elle has done, and am now ready to continue with the job. You, on the other hand, wished to excuse...this... without fully understanding and appreciating what you are seeing.

Jay - I appreciate it. I guess, I appreciate it...just not, like you, I guess.

Kay - Don't you realize what this means. What we're looking at?

Beat

Kay - It means, that Elle is more respectable than I thought.

I got done

Not a new scene, just continuation of previous.

Kay - Great

Jay - Great

Elle - So how do we go about it?

Kay - Can't expect us to tell you everything

Jay - It's pretty boring really.

Elle - Not everything, something, not everything.

Kay - If you give a moose a muffin...

Elle - Excuse me?

Jay - It's not we, it's us.

Elle - What?

Kay - You said "we" there is no "we."

Jay - Just us and please, it's really nothing, routine.

Kay - And it's best if you not know.

Elle - Best? I'm the one that...I think it's best if I know.

Kay - Why? So you can do what? So you can help? I wouldn't think you'd want to do that.

Jay - Plus if we told you we'd have to kill you.

Beat

Beat

Kay - Alright, you were going to tell use where to go.

Elle - Yes.

He's

Umm He's upstairs.

Kay - Thank you

Jay - Really, it is best that we don't go into specifics.

Beat

Jay - These stairs

Elle - Yes.

Jay and Kay exit. Elle is left alone. A single spot light, looking up the stairs. Starts to smile. Wide.

terra mojada

Through the next scene Jay, Kay and Elle are all sitting at the table that they were sitting at in the previous scene. Jay and Kays backs no longer to the audience. They sit on either side (stage L and stage R). Elle is UP Stage Center.

Elle - I'm sorry, you just looked so uncomfortable.

Kay - Did we?

Jay - I'm sure we did.

Kay - We're not.

Elle - You're not.

Jay - I'm sure we just seemed uncomfortable.

Kay - We tend to seem uncomfortable.

Beat

Beat

Jay - The tea's good.

Elle - I'm sorry, tend to seem uncomfortable?

Kay - Yes.

Jay - Not too hot. There was plenty of time to let it cool.
I'm sure that you must have the leaves, bags?
I'm sure I taste actual leaves (but I'm no expert), in first and then added the boiling water.

Beat

Was there some lemon already in the tea? It isn't lemon tea though, it barely needs any honey or sugar.

Beat

I like honey better, the sugar tends to collect too much at the bottom of the cup;

Beat

it's like drinking a sweet sediment from the base of a river.

Kay - I never really got the hang of drinking tea.

Elle - The hang of drinking tea?

Kay - Yes.

Elle - Well I'm glad one of you is enjoying the tea.

Kay - I didn't say I didn't enjoy it.

Elle - Well at least this was only the beginning.

Jay - More tea?

Elle - No.

Kay - Great. We'll we're ready/

Elle - Yes, I can see that.

Kay - Yes. You told us.

Jay - I'm just glad we got here on time.

Elle - Why?

Jay - Well you see/

Kay - No reason.

Elle - What makes you think you came here on time?

Jay - You said we were early.

Elle - Unless they have changed the definition of On Time

On Time does not mean early.

Early means before the expected time.

I expected you at a certain time and you most surely came before the expected time.

Kay - Would you like we should go?

Leave.

Take all our preparations and come back tomorrow.

The day after.

Beat

We've proved we can find you.

And it took even less than the time we gave ourselves.

Jay - It wasn't hard. I knew we would get here on time.

I just get so nervous about time and being on time,

not making anyone wait.

Beat

Waiting can be the worst part.

Elle - I'm sure.

Jay - I don't know about you but the waiting,
the waiting...is the worst.
Because it's so much more than just waiting; it's expecting.
Expectations not met
and it comes in waves, non-stop, swelling and growing.
I mean there I am waiting, expecting and that's when it starts:
Why aren't they here?
What time is it?
Did I give them the right address?
Did I give them the right directions?
Did they ask for directions?
What time is it?
What time did I say to be here?
Is it the right day? (of course it's the right day)
Is it time?
What time is it?

Beat

What time is it?

Beat

Kay, what time is it?

Kay - It should be about time.

Elle - Uh, yes yes. Now should be the right time.

Kay - So...

Elle - Yes. I'm sorry. I'll be back in a moment.

Elle Exits

Kay - What a bitch.

Jay - God, are you for real right now?

Kay - What? She's a bitch.

Jay - Yes, but don't say that out loud.

Kay - Whatever. It doesn't matter.

Jay - She's already making this harder than it should be. And that shitty attitude you have isn't helping.

Kay - It's not like she wouldn't be such a twat if I was acting like care bear.

Jay - Well I guess well never find out because that odds of that happening are pretty low now aren't they.

Kay - Yes. Yes they are.

Elle Enters

Elle - O.K. I think we can start.

come and find me

Elle-
Good you made it! Good, great.
This is great.
This...this, well I can't begin to tell you how important this is going to...how necessary, but that can wait.
I'm just glad you made it.
Early!
It's brutal out there, the elements and...everything. But, yes good you came!
Prepared. I see that; yes very much prepared.
I was always taught it was crucial to be prepared.
For anything. Well at least somethings.
In a perfect world I was supposed to be prepared for everything.
But who can do that? Do you know how much everything is?
It's a lot. By definition it is a lot.
No, yes, at my best I was prepared for somethings.
At my worst, I was prepared for the minimal catastrophe, the minimal disturbance, the minimal problems, the scrapes, bruises but not the uncontrollable, not the torrents that would come raining down.
But yes! You two. Very much in the opposite camp as myself.
Tea? Coffee? Sit.
While still, early.
You really should have some tea or coffee.
It's brutal out there.
Yes tea or coffee would be best.
and sit.
Sit.
Preparation. Yes.
I remember my mother would teach me the art of preparation.
Trust me it is an art.
But look at me preaching to the choir as they say.
An art, meticulous. Constant training and relearning.
But with an intuition of course. Sparks.
Revelations.
In all things.
Let me get you more.
It's something that you can't forget, no, forgetting is the worse kind of sacrilege.
I still remember being wrapped up; tight to the point of suffocation. Thick itch wool biting at my neck. Trading one redness and pain for another.
Arms restrained, bound severe and perpendicular to my body.
But it was good, it worth it.
Like all things that are difficult. worth it.
In the end.
Resilience, strength.
But I'm sure you two know all about that.
You made it here for christsake.
Sugar? milk
Is it too hot?
Not for the weak willed.
Drink up.

el aire que respira

Jay - We're headed the right way...? Right?

Kay - ...Yes...probably...definitely.

Jay - What makes you say probably?

Kay - We're fine.

Jay - You just/

Kay - /I know what you're gonna say "You sounded so hesitant" "you waited to long to respond"

Jay - Yes and Yes

Kay - I said I would get us there and that's what I'm doing.

Jay - With your incredible sense of direction

Kay - I don't see you helping.

Jay - Constructive criticism/

Kay - /Is not a real form of helping. Plus! it's not what you're doing.

Jay - Don't tell me what I'm doing.

Kay - I'm telling you what you're NOT doing. Difference.

Jay - Ha! Semantics!

Kay - God! What are you doing to help?

Jay - ...Conversation?

Kay - Argument is not conversation.

Jay - Yeah sure it's not

Kay - What would stop me from leaving you here? You don't know where we are...

Jay - Shut up neither do you...that's why we stopped/

Kay - ONLY a vague idea where we're going/

Jay - Please! You don't know any better than I do

beat

Jay - Are we headed the right way?

Kay - Oh, I'll get us there. Even I have to murder and drag your body 100 miles/

Jay - Seriously that far?/

Kay - JUST so you'll stop asking if we're headed the right way.

Jay - You wouldn't be able to carry this much weight.

Kay - What're you; a buck 70? 80?

Jay - Thanks Paul Bunyun. There's a difference between dead weight and non-dead weight

Kay - Undead weight.

Jay - Night of the living, day of the. dawn of the, all movies about heavy think moving bodies

barreling towards you with no escape in sight.

Kay - Their arms, legs, their whatevers would break so easily.

Jay - Rot, decay. Time.

Kay - Solution. I'll wait a few days; brush away the maggots, worm etc. and then we'll see who's

carrying who.

Jay - Whom

Kay - ....fine....

Jay - So you're saying that it would take a few days?

Kay - Yeah, you know, to make sure enough is eaten away.

Jay - Or to get there, I mean if it's going to take a few days,

I mean if you have the time, I mean need the time to wait...

Kay - The soft tissue would go first. I guess the eyes, the fat

Jay - Because you said you knew how to get there.

Kay - And enough would fall away from the tougher, resilient, annoying stuff

Jay - And we've been walking for a while

Kay - Then just give a good ole heave

Jay - So you/

Kay - Jesus. We're here.

To friends

I hate the fact that even though i made the obvious WEEKEND tag this is in fact not my weekend. This isn't even the squeakend, you know? No chipmunks runnin' round here. It's just another work day.
I'm here.
I'm queer.
And I'm a lil over it.

I didn't like the phrase "over it" for a long time. I thought it added a dismissive quality to the situation that the speaker was in, that, instead of placing them in the dominate position, the speaker was letting themselves become passive in whatever they (the speaker) was either over or under. And then I thought to myself, "Why the fuck am I think about this, I'm over it!" Then it clicked, like so many finger snapping drag queens. I knew. When you become "over" something/someone/some situation, not only do you negate it's dominance, you also in turn regard it with such disdain that the mere thought of it will make you physical sick, so you choose not to think about it anymore.

Just me? Whatever *eye roll


AND HERE'S A LITTLE SOMETHING SEXTRA:


C- Oh hey It’s L! Beer? Let me go get you…

L- party still going on?

As C exits

C- did it ever stop!

M- Will it?

L – will…?

M – C ever stop being his charming self?

L – Very/ little chance of that

G – /Oh please at least/ he’s entertaining

L – Entertaining is certainly a word for it.

M – Yeah, bullfighting is also entertaining

L – Not if you’re the bull.

M – Not if you’re the bullfighter

L – Matador

G – It’s a spectacle

L – Where’s that beer? Spectacle?

G – yeah the crowd; excitement

M – Blood

L - -Gore

M – Mauling’s

G – Did you check behind?

Off

C – Found it!

C enters with beer hands it to L

M - -About time, what took you so long?

L – Just…I went through this day and I didn’t know what time it was. Didn’t even look-ask. Walked around...not sure if I did anything. Met up with this…eh he was charming and yeah. Sorry I’m late.

C – The nice outfits; all sparkley n’shit

G – It’s traditional…not sure why

M – Charming….name?...initial?

L – What’d I miss?

C- I was just—

G – instigating

M – Being an asshole –

C – Broken record

L – Having fun I see

M – C was regaling us with wisdom he picked up some 10 or so years ago back while he was playing games in some class. Psychology, Sociology? God knows, C surely doesn’t…

C – Just because I touched a nerve.

L – Not hard

G – Thank you

M – Of course it’s not hard when you try so much.

C – You call that trying?

G/L//C – Please!

G – It is. I know it is…Not trying is just vaguely…it’s just a vague sense of being vaguely annoying

Beat

L – Charming; outgoing to the point of almost being…overwhelming

M – But not, right?

L – No, I mean yeah, right.

C – So you met someone, who isn’t an asshole.

L – Yeah I guess I did.

it's my heart not me

I'm a sleepy sally today.

K and T (hello! thanks! please, enjoy! no no no, this one's on me!) can attest that.

I was thinking about all the horrible movies I promised I would treat myself to.

Movies like, Sex in the City 2: Operation Desert Sandblast Facelift or Twilight Eclipse: The Hunt for Vadge October.

I don't know. If these are the movies that er'body went midnight screening crazy over why not watch them!

Here's why, because they would probably make any sane person gladly claw out their eyes.
But
BUT the absolute genius that are these cinematic gems is that they have the endless potential for unintentional hilariousness. Like when some gets hit with a ball or when you see toolbags on skateboards fall and hurt themselves.

IT'S MAJOR LULZTIMEZ,

So I guess it's kind of hipsterish, my desire to watch these movies.....? Or my desire to be a part of mainstream pop culture yet simultaneously be a part from it. I dunno!

Either way I do want to watch THIS MOVIE:





So, how'd you like it? Thanks for coming. Oh and say hi to the kids for me, they grow up so fast don't they? I can't believe little Susy graduated and is starting Smith in the fall. And I'm sure Drew will find his footing; he's always been a free spirit.

Oh and hey I'll make some of my famous polenta in the future, I know how much you enjoyed it that last time. I just haven't had the time! so so so busy! Well thanks again!

Oh and next you come around, do you mind wiping your feet? There's shit all over my new rug.

A plot of land

After my anXXXiety (<-sexy!) fit yesterday, I had a well rested night last night. OR SO I THOUGHT. I found my sleep briefly disturbed by a dream that I haven't had in a while.

I found myself back in the neighborhood I grew up in, but everything was slightly twisted sideways/inside out. It was like when you revisit a place that you knew really well but like half the buildings had been taken down and new ones had been erected (<-heh) that didn't seem to quite belong.

I was trying to figure out what exactly had happened to my picturesque nightmare of a home town, when I was being chased. Like prior times I've had this dreams I can never see the face of my pursuer. There is always a shadow or a fog that seems to cover his face. It's really fucking scary. So there I was, dream me running for my life, again.

When I reached that moment of dream realization (dreamization?) where I'm like oh a'duh you dreamin' stupid. Unlike the cool cool coolio dream manipulating things that you can do, like fly n' things, I couldn't do any of that shit.
All I could do is wonder why I couldn't wake myself up. I did manage to wake up once I was safely sheltered in my dream best friends dream house not to be confused with the horror show that is Barbies Dreamhouse of broken dreams and bloody corpses. I climbed through my dream friends attic window, which he doesn't have in real life, and I was safe.

Well safe for the moment since I knew that he would find me. It's been, what? Like 3-4 years since I've had this dream, so maybe he'll find me again, like nightmares on phlegmstreet, spo0o0o0ky! So I woke up pissed because I wasn't able to, you know kick some dream ass.

And that was that. And this is this:

M – This. This is why not no one likes you. I don’t like you, L can’t stand you, G only tolerates you because he’s known you the longest. It’s because you are an asshole. Not one of those rakish assholes, nope. Just an asshole.

C – Because I don’t spout platitudes? Because I know that things might not end up O.K. and choose not to delude myself into thinking that they will?

M – You think that you’re doing everyone such a great service.

C – Aren’t I?

M – You have no filter, you have no regard for anyone’s feelings, anyone's.

G has been sitting, drinking his beer. Continues to watch.

M – You just say thing that are incredibly…ugh…stupid-

C – Why? Why is it stupid? I don’t like to sugar coat things because what’s the point? Isn’t the truth what everyone wants to hear? No. Obviously, not. People want to feel special, unique, like they can conquer anything. Not true. The truth isn’t beautiful; it’s dirty and hard and will sit on your chest torturing you. Immovable.

M – Listen Cassandra, you aren’t the harbinger of truth. You are just a guy that says things to bring attention to himself because he thinks his pop psychology will somehow validate his awfulness.

Nothing ca

Shocking as I think this is I HAVEN’T BEEN RUNNING!

Crazy, I know.

With today’s severe lack of mindless drivel here I am adding my own lifeless listless something elseless contribution. This isn’t a flash in the pan but a thud thwunk in an iron skillet ready to be served in your local Denny’s.

G – So I’ve really decided to go for it. Commit. No more half-assing it. No one can stop me.

M – Yes, finally.

C – Hooray

M – Why do you have to be such a dick? Actually, why? This is good news.

C exits

M – DICK

G – He’s not a dick

M – uh yes. Yes, he is

G – He’s been going through this with me since forever. It’s not like he’s not supportive. He’s just…skeptical.

M – Who isn’t. Not like that I mean, you can be hopeful too. That this horrible thing will be over.

C enters with two beers tosses one to G

C – And now you’ll be fine! It’s not like this keeps happening because you want it to keep happening. If that were the case, we, in good conscious, would have locked you up tossed away the key and visited you every other Christmas. So don’t pull that shit that it’s somehow your fault that you haven’t been doing better; doing better from something you and your therapists and your doctors and your medications haven’t been able to handle for the past 13 or so odd years. It’s great that you’re re-committing but I just want you to know that no one here thinks that you’ve ever not been committed.

pause

And if anyone does think that they are a bitch named M

You turn on the radio

....That's interesting...

That's one of the never want to hear phrases that you would...well, never want to hear from any kind of medical provider.

I went on a doctorpalooza/doctoroff/doctorthon, I think I'll go with doctoroff because it sounds kinda russian(?), recently curz I got health insurance bee-atchez.

oh-bah-ma oh-bah-ma.

J/K barry bamz didn't give me no health insurance, not yet anywayz.

I got myself a physical and I'm SURPRISINGLY healthy. Like, I blame my age. I eat super unhealthily, I get my drank on, I don't excersise (<-----don't even know how to spell it)!

That's one of those things; unremarkable, normal, average, unextraordinary are really super awesome.

No medical provider is going to say this is very remarkable it looks like you'll never get sick ever or hmmm it looks like you can fly and also have heat vision and super speed and are totally awesome!

No.

Ooooh, this is interesting you have cancer or something...

So well I went to get my eyes check oot. And FULL DISCLOSURE, that's a thing right? I have this thing where my eye get's all googly. When I look to the LEFT my RIGHT eye get's all..."oh you're going to the left? I think I'll go to the UPPER left suck on that LEFT eye" For a long time I was all self conscious about it. Well, I still am, because COME ON it's my fuckin' eyes, you know? It's not like I can hide my yeux (<-----FRANCH), because I'm not a douche bag that can wear sunglasses indoors. Sooooooooo there's that. Apparently my eyes are a lil more google then I thought! GREAT.

Interesting, the eye dorktor said to me as he finished inspecting my jelly-filled eyeholes, while he was uncomfortably close pulling at my lower eyelid. "You're eyes don't regulate themselves" or something...I zoned out and his voice took the consistency and timbre of a pudding filled trombone playing with a mute over the horn, when he did some hand motion that was....disturbing. So I have interesting googly eyes.

At least I have good cholesterol

My arteries aren't the window to the soul

and that right there

When asked, sometimes I answer "oh you know just...stuff." But last night, a stroke of genius. Or maybe just a stroke! My mouth did get all lopsided (is it kinda sad that I initially misspelled genius but I had no problem with lopsided?)!

"creative nonfiction" and with those two words I was set free. Fictional nonfiction...which basically means I can be a liar and no one can say shit!

Sitting in the dimly light bar; the kind of bar that gets dimlier light, dimmer lighter, I was confronted with the, "oh, what do you write?" Honestly I never thought that I would become on of those people that says, "Oh, I write."

Because that's not the whole motherfuckin' truth. (<-------adamant much?) I like to write and I like to write in this billa bong betty babe blog and i like alliteration. But I don't write. I'm not a writer. I have friends who are writers and that's what they do or try to do. I'm just here for giggle n' things. So after my friend asked me that, after I was done punching him in the face repeatedly until i collapsed from exhaustion. My knuckles bloody and possibly broken. I picked myself up, dragged my friend up by the collar slapped him back to consciousness I said "creative nonfiction."

I don't know why

After a less than thrilling day at work. Can you work it? let me work it? something something flip it and reverse it?

I was going to write some stuff down on this. Some creative writing stuff; creagaytive writing.

I don't like to brag or anything but I don't get lonely.Well, not to say I don't get "lonely," I mean I get "lonely" I just don't feel lonely. Or, I mean, that's not right, that's not what I mean to, that's not what I want to say. People think that loneliness is some kind of whole or pit or some other vaguely feminine, slightly misogynistic (Isn't it? swelling with happiness equals phallic; falling into depression...sapphic) metaphor. I don't feel like I'm falling; that I'm surrounded by darkness none of that cliched bullshit. I have this new cliched bullshit. It feels like a burning sensation. Like I'm being branded, changed, marked. I'm surrounded and entered by a light. Fucked. I'm being fucked and everyone knows it. It changes me. I don't mind the endless flame. My own personal eternal flame. Remember that song? Do you understand?...Whatever, it's a good song. I revel in it because I can't not. So, no I'm not lonely, I'm on fire; consumed from the inside out.

What this ole thing? It's just something that I whipped up. It's an old recipe really! Something I have tucked away in case people come by. Because, oh, you know, you can never know when anything can happen! Better to be a prepared polly! Just, a lil' ole thing that I might put into my play that I'm working on. Yes, the same play that I've been working on for a while. The same ole shit that I have spread out in a multitude of napkins, lose papers, so leaves, my bedroom walls, my computer (not in a word document mind you, on the screen scrawled with a razor blade...woah that went to a much darker place then i intended..)

[insert; ya got served]

I thought you'd

Well, It's Tuesday and I'm just now. YES! now! getting to write about what happened this weekend.

God, that's sounds like the prompt for a 3rd grade essay assignment.

Mrs. Teacher: OK class today were are going to break into groups and write about what we did last weekend.

3rd grader: Why are we splitting up into groups?

3rd grader #2: Yeah, When we all did different things?

Mrs. Teacher: Class who here went to The Ohio State University to get their degree in Art History?
And who was forced by their mother to change because the Arts are for girls that are talented and that you should stick to something average girls excel at, so why not teacher? "Why not that hun"?
And who here had a little too much wine one night and thought "surrre we don't have to use a condom Tommy, just, you know don't finish."
And who did not have any money to as your mother would say "go to Columbus" and "Take care of it?"
And are you stuck raising a child you didn't want, in a town you hate, working at a job that leaves you weeping in your bathroom after you were sick drinking too much wine, because Tommy always buys the cheap swill?
No. So get into you groups and write about your weekends.

3rd grade class:...
[insert: i google imaged this picture with "3rd grade teacher" isn't fun to think she is saying it?]



...So what I did on my weekend was actually really fun!
Friday some coworkerz and I went to get some drankz after werk.
So we went and got some mothafuckin mahgahrahtahs up in this bitch.
We had a nice little chat (Heidi Klum says that on Project Running with Scissors!) about things and things and liberal art things and sexual health stuff and queer activism miscellany and stuff we have the privilege to talk about. But we also talked about horoscopes! And that was nice.

Later we walked across the WilliamsBLURG bridge, (yeah I know, I know STFU life) but it was really nice in that highly romanticized young! new york! experience.
[insert: we didn't look like this]



Saturday was a blerk day.
So that was filled by a haze a sleepiness whilst (<----so english RITE??) I was guzzling down any caffeine drink I could wrap my grubby monkey paws around. But things took a decidedly upward swing when a good friend (from Chicago) came! We watched

The Runaways: The Dakota Fanning Tale of Sapphism, Drugs and Career (Re)Invention.
It was a cute pseudo-gritty pseudo-artsy all angsty story of Joan Jett (the girl from Twilight that always look like she rather be anywhere than where she is at the moment, then leave! be free! that's what I would tell her!) and Cherie Curry (Dakota motherfucking Fanning). Every time they were on screen, so basically for like 2 hrs (was it even 2? it's might been like 1 1/2 for all I know!) it was like oh you are so much more famous for playing with vampires and being a little girl.
AWKward. It was fun.

[insert: lesbionic cybertronic d-d-disco baby]


Then my friend, (oli!) and I got him some pants, went back to my place, then went to a PARTAY. IT'S A PARTY IN THE U.S.GAY. Yeah I went there.

Ironically it wasn't a gay party frownface.
It was fun. I was pleasantly surprised (re: peeing my pants a lil) to see my friend, (l.k.) whom I haven't seen in literally Fo Evz. So that was delightful.
But I was also glad that oli got along with the Oberliners that were throwing the party. Because, it's always tough to interact with people that are constantly making old joke and time specific references and then you end up just kinda standing there drinking until you just starting screaming and screaming and screaming for someone to get you out of there. only me? ok!
But oli was great and OBViously er'body was all like yo friend is awesome. Yes. and Duh.

Then we went back to mine and WINK.

Sunday was also a pleasant day. It was a HOLY-DAZE. Sunday was the day the Jesus was all like so over being dead, it wasn't even funny. And he was like you guys I'm totally back but Earth kinda sux too see ya! So DS7 and KreativeKrisis (emphasis on KRISIS!) went to a gay ole party and had gay ole drinks and talked about how gay we were (well some of us; others like to play pretend) So that was fun.




! yuuuuuuuuup!

shooting stars

I've done nothing today. I'm so tiiiiiiiiiired, while i was typing that I was trying to think of a way to incorporate tire iron, but I couldn't, so...tire iron.

[insert: I don't know why I think of these things, I just do, then I write them down]


Last night a couple of coworker and I went out to a magazine party at SUGARLAND, the local gay discotheque. There where a lot of hotties hawtees hot teas(?) there. As per usual I went home alone and drunk and cried myself to sleep while i was eating a sandwich.

scene:

Door opens to a disheveled apartment.
An assortment of shoes strewn near the entrance.
Miscellaneous clothes and underwear are in the kitchen (the bathroom is located off of the kitchen, so it isn't as gross as it sounds, but still pretty, ooky).
The florescent lights turn on to a be-suspendered 23 year old homosexual with one pant leg rolled up to reveal a tube sock worn over the calf (he was trying something for the evening, whatever he thought it looked ok).
He makes a sandwich, turns on his laptop, starts crying hysterically.

end scene

I joke, I joke.....or do I?




I wouldn't kick that outa bed