oh, snap.
posted by gijyun |
9.30.2004
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10:00 AM
mid-day traffic
posted by gijyun |
9.29.2004
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2:10 PM
not to put too fine a point on it
say i'm the only bee in your bonnet! make a little birdhouse in your soul.
before sleeping so hard i dreamt of wynona judd (i...i wish i was kidding), i was diligently scouring the interweb last night after a conversation that allowed for at least one of two things to be true:
1. that ween sings that push th' little daisies song.i had no idea. i am retarded and found out a while ago but forgot.
and
2. mike judge should temporarily come out of whatever retirement funk he's in to make a mix tape.
if not for us, for the children. i came across this website, that has every beavis and butthead episode listed in detail, with the pre- and post-edited versions. some of the stuff on there is just good.
aside from the episode notes that include stuff like "scene of beavis jamming bratwursts down a frog's throat," there's so many video selections that made me choke on the cinnamon toast that one of the designers brought into work this morning.
with some help from my leetle audio streaming friend, i've begun a beavis and butthead compilation. should i happen to finish it, i'll post the details.
i'm your only friend, i'm not your only friend, but i'm a little glowing friend
but really i'm not actually your friend
before sleeping so hard i dreamt of wynona judd (i...i wish i was kidding), i was diligently scouring the interweb last night after a conversation that allowed for at least one of two things to be true:
1. that ween sings that push th' little daisies song.
and
2. mike judge should temporarily come out of whatever retirement funk he's in to make a mix tape.
if not for us, for the children. i came across this website, that has every beavis and butthead episode listed in detail, with the pre- and post-edited versions. some of the stuff on there is just good.
aside from the episode notes that include stuff like "scene of beavis jamming bratwursts down a frog's throat," there's so many video selections that made me choke on the cinnamon toast that one of the designers brought into work this morning.
with some help from my leetle audio streaming friend, i've begun a beavis and butthead compilation. should i happen to finish it, i'll post the details.
i'm your only friend, i'm not your only friend, but i'm a little glowing friend
but really i'm not actually your friend
god, the technological age is cool.
the email
i received an email from a disgruntled (?) reader late last evening (must be on the west coast. loser.), who says:
"dear ms. lynn:
i have been reading your blog and your column for some time now. i find that the quality of your writing has dropped considerably, and find your column to be annoying at best to read. you should realize that your readership goes beyond your group of friends.
i have also noticed there is only one consistency in your life: alcohol.
i gave up the bottle many years ago, and it has done wondrous things for me. i recommend that you try living a healthier lifestyle. you'll be surprised as to how inspired you become, and how the quality of your writing will return to the level it once was.
also, i get the feeling your abstinence is starting to wear on you. i commend you on your efforts for this. stay strong. "
the response:
...mmmkay. where to start.
first, it's not a 'column'. it's a feature. a column would require paragraphs and a five-canon format. and actually, my readership demographic is my friends.
second, see my archives, beyatch. i already went sober. you'll notice that the "quality of my writing" was much darker and certainly not as entertaining. not that this shit can be considered entertaining, anyway, but you catch my drift. if at some point you'd like to have a discussion on the idea of a healthy lifestyle, i would like to point out that i don't make it a habit to send anonymously critical emails to people i don't know. only to charges, but don't tell her they're from me.
third, while i appreciate your efforts in pointing a positive light in the direction of my sex life, i'd like to point out that i don't choose to be abstinent, i just happen to be unimpressed with casual sex. the only alternative is a more substantial relationship, with which, if you haven't noticed by now, i am either ridiculously picky, down on my luck with the selection pool, or happen to be very very unattractive. even if i weren't currently abstinent, i would still "stay strong," whatever the fuck that means.
i admit abstinence (and mind you, this is only about six months, not several years) has shed a certain appreciative light on the matter of the act of love, but that doesn't mean that i'm not constantly thinking about it. i'm not dead, for pete's sake. i'm in my prime. i have a lot of love to give. more than i care to admit. but it's a healthy challenge for me as to what shape i give to the love i share with my social circle.
that being said, i'd like to reiterate that while alcohol may be an amusing sub-plot to most of my posts, that isn't to say that i don't have an exceptional(-ly dysfunctional) family foundation, siblings that are cooler than everyone, friends who constantly humble me, a substantial romantic past (albeit mildly unorthodox in some areas), and a strong network of acquaintances (including select links to your left), for whom i would gladly step in front of a bus if it were necessary.
i'll kindly remind you that this URL exists solely as my outlet, because no one in their right mind would sit and listen to me talking about all this stuff. plus, you can't "post images" in a conversation, and at least this way, you have something to read at work. please use it to your will, but refrain from telling me what to do.
while i appreciate your feedback and concern, i encourage you to reconsider your self-righteous tone. we all have demons, and as a recovering alcoholic you might recognize that i am not afraid to face mine, with or without a vice.
yours,
agl
i received an email from a disgruntled (?) reader late last evening (must be on the west coast. loser.), who says:
"dear ms. lynn:
i have been reading your blog and your column for some time now. i find that the quality of your writing has dropped considerably, and find your column to be annoying at best to read. you should realize that your readership goes beyond your group of friends.
i have also noticed there is only one consistency in your life: alcohol.
i gave up the bottle many years ago, and it has done wondrous things for me. i recommend that you try living a healthier lifestyle. you'll be surprised as to how inspired you become, and how the quality of your writing will return to the level it once was.
also, i get the feeling your abstinence is starting to wear on you. i commend you on your efforts for this. stay strong. "
the response:
...mmmkay. where to start.
first, it's not a 'column'. it's a feature. a column would require paragraphs and a five-canon format. and actually, my readership demographic is my friends.
second, see my archives, beyatch. i already went sober. you'll notice that the "quality of my writing" was much darker and certainly not as entertaining. not that this shit can be considered entertaining, anyway, but you catch my drift. if at some point you'd like to have a discussion on the idea of a healthy lifestyle, i would like to point out that i don't make it a habit to send anonymously critical emails to people i don't know. only to charges, but don't tell her they're from me.
third, while i appreciate your efforts in pointing a positive light in the direction of my sex life, i'd like to point out that i don't choose to be abstinent, i just happen to be unimpressed with casual sex. the only alternative is a more substantial relationship, with which, if you haven't noticed by now, i am either ridiculously picky, down on my luck with the selection pool, or happen to be very very unattractive. even if i weren't currently abstinent, i would still "stay strong," whatever the fuck that means.
i admit abstinence (and mind you, this is only about six months, not several years) has shed a certain appreciative light on the matter of the act of love, but that doesn't mean that i'm not constantly thinking about it. i'm not dead, for pete's sake. i'm in my prime. i have a lot of love to give. more than i care to admit. but it's a healthy challenge for me as to what shape i give to the love i share with my social circle.
that being said, i'd like to reiterate that while alcohol may be an amusing sub-plot to most of my posts, that isn't to say that i don't have an exceptional(-ly dysfunctional) family foundation, siblings that are cooler than everyone, friends who constantly humble me, a substantial romantic past (albeit mildly unorthodox in some areas), and a strong network of acquaintances (including select links to your left), for whom i would gladly step in front of a bus if it were necessary.
i'll kindly remind you that this URL exists solely as my outlet, because no one in their right mind would sit and listen to me talking about all this stuff. plus, you can't "post images" in a conversation, and at least this way, you have something to read at work. please use it to your will, but refrain from telling me what to do.
while i appreciate your feedback and concern, i encourage you to reconsider your self-righteous tone. we all have demons, and as a recovering alcoholic you might recognize that i am not afraid to face mine, with or without a vice.
yours,
agl
posted by gijyun |
9.28.2004
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10:41 AM
you don't love me, you just love my bloggy style.
the digicam is currently full from another three day weekend. seriously, you should all talk to your bosses about having every other friday off. i highly recommend it.
friday night, the lovable snow patrol graced the mile high city and showed our rinky dink town how to be dead. i was hyped up all week for the show.
too bad i didn't go. who knew they'd sell out? lots of people, i suppose, but since i lost my check card, i've lost my buying-in-advance power.
so what'd we do instead?
barry's on broadway. saw a blogger, who is known at such a location by name and drink. always a treat.
saturday night contained a little less spontaneity and a lot more alcohol.
'tis only once a year that transport bloggers turn seventeen.
while i highly recommend the coral room for just about any occasion, you'd think i'd be smart enough to eat a decent meal before indulging a high blood-alcohol level. some people never learn.
more importantly, you'd think i'd have enough sense to slow down after we left to hit up only the classiest bar this side of sheridan boulevard.
...i can't even remember what it's called.
i do, however, remember making a barrage of new friends.
oof.
i rock dart boards. if not only in my mind.
a quick word to the hardly wise: without pretense or ill intent, i strongly recommend that when my friend jess-kah says, "pool? yeah, i play pool. sure, i'll play you," just turn the other direction and run.
gijyun, jess-kah, birthday boy. it's about here that i stop remembering.
shortly after this point, i force jess-kah to get me home, but of course, not with out stopping at appaloosa to check in with the cole hauser look-alike drummer.
if i know anything...which i don't...i'm pretty sure that the highlight of my evening is when the drummer says to me, "so, i've been reading gideon's bible," and gives me a pretty fair sized shit-eating grin.
i could only grin back, take the shot of whiskey he offered, and then promptly jump in a cab to go vomit in the comforts of my own home.
seriously...it's a wonder i'm single. i know this.
most importantly, the birthday boy (claims to have) had a wonderful time.
i know what you're thinking; how could the weekend get any more fun?
i'll tell you how. there's only one thing to do after a long night of drinking.
that's right. wake the birthday boy up at eleven a.m. to go see the broncos woop up all over the san diego homosexuals. see john elway get his hall of fame ring. pretend to take an active interest in the rules of the game. drink beer to kill the hangover. get a mild sunburn.
what a weekend. i'd be surprised if anyone has even read this far.
...and there's still more!
after lying on the couch for about an hour after the broncos/grilled ham and cheese fiasco, i get a phone call from who? a blogger.
i know, i know. it's sad. but technically, he only started a blog to make fun of me, so it doesn't count. i really do have friends.
i swear.
so we decided to see the late night screening of what the @#$% do we know?!
if you haven't seen or heard anything regarding the content of this film, know a few things before making the trip.
1. the story is fucking retarded.
2. the graphics are fucking retarded.
3. the special effects are fucking retarded.
4. just about all the actors in this film are fucking retarded.
5. judo-chopping a tube of toothpaste and then drawing all over oneself with blue eyeliner does not constitute a cure for depression.
but the actual content is pretty rad. i recommend seeing it, but know this: even when you're like, hey, this movie is fucking retarded, just tune out the storyline and pay attention to the documentary.
post-modernism at it's finest.
that's about it. but guess what i'm doing tonight? meeting up with a couple of effing bloggers.
some might venture to say i need a new hobby, but that's just psychological nonsense.
friday night, the lovable snow patrol graced the mile high city and showed our rinky dink town how to be dead. i was hyped up all week for the show.
too bad i didn't go. who knew they'd sell out? lots of people, i suppose, but since i lost my check card, i've lost my buying-in-advance power.
so what'd we do instead?
barry's on broadway. saw a blogger, who is known at such a location by name and drink. always a treat.
saturday night contained a little less spontaneity and a lot more alcohol.
'tis only once a year that transport bloggers turn seventeen.
while i highly recommend the coral room for just about any occasion, you'd think i'd be smart enough to eat a decent meal before indulging a high blood-alcohol level. some people never learn.
more importantly, you'd think i'd have enough sense to slow down after we left to hit up only the classiest bar this side of sheridan boulevard.
...i can't even remember what it's called.
i do, however, remember making a barrage of new friends.
oof.
i rock dart boards. if not only in my mind.
a quick word to the hardly wise: without pretense or ill intent, i strongly recommend that when my friend jess-kah says, "pool? yeah, i play pool. sure, i'll play you," just turn the other direction and run.
gijyun, jess-kah, birthday boy. it's about here that i stop remembering.
shortly after this point, i force jess-kah to get me home, but of course, not with out stopping at appaloosa to check in with the cole hauser look-alike drummer.
if i know anything...which i don't...i'm pretty sure that the highlight of my evening is when the drummer says to me, "so, i've been reading gideon's bible," and gives me a pretty fair sized shit-eating grin.
i could only grin back, take the shot of whiskey he offered, and then promptly jump in a cab to go vomit in the comforts of my own home.
seriously...it's a wonder i'm single. i know this.
most importantly, the birthday boy (claims to have) had a wonderful time.
i know what you're thinking; how could the weekend get any more fun?
i'll tell you how. there's only one thing to do after a long night of drinking.
that's right. wake the birthday boy up at eleven a.m. to go see the broncos woop up all over the san diego homosexuals. see john elway get his hall of fame ring. pretend to take an active interest in the rules of the game. drink beer to kill the hangover. get a mild sunburn.
what a weekend. i'd be surprised if anyone has even read this far.
...and there's still more!
after lying on the couch for about an hour after the broncos/grilled ham and cheese fiasco, i get a phone call from who? a blogger.
i know, i know. it's sad. but technically, he only started a blog to make fun of me, so it doesn't count. i really do have friends.
i swear.
so we decided to see the late night screening of what the @#$% do we know?!
if you haven't seen or heard anything regarding the content of this film, know a few things before making the trip.
1. the story is fucking retarded.
2. the graphics are fucking retarded.
3. the special effects are fucking retarded.
4. just about all the actors in this film are fucking retarded.
5. judo-chopping a tube of toothpaste and then drawing all over oneself with blue eyeliner does not constitute a cure for depression.
but the actual content is pretty rad. i recommend seeing it, but know this: even when you're like, hey, this movie is fucking retarded, just tune out the storyline and pay attention to the documentary.
post-modernism at it's finest.
that's about it. but guess what i'm doing tonight? meeting up with a couple of effing bloggers.
some might venture to say i need a new hobby, but that's just psychological nonsense.
posted by gijyun |
9.27.2004
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8:26 AM
au revoir, les enfants
today i heed the funeral of my high school prom date, who took his own life on tuesday.
les rêves doux pour vous. avec l'amour j'espère que vous ait trouvé la paix dans le sommeil.
today i heed the funeral of my high school prom date, who took his own life on tuesday.
les rêves doux pour vous. avec l'amour j'espère que vous ait trouvé la paix dans le sommeil.
posted by gijyun |
9.23.2004
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8:15 AM
297 pages
first off, if you're here for psychiatric treatment or prescriptions due to overwhelming grief, might i direct you elsewhere?
my first real night at home at my new place last night came after a visit from my best friend from college ended, and i get a call...
charges: what are you doing?
gijyun: i have a visitor.
charges: the over-night kind?
gijyun: shut up.
charges: can you fix my template?
gijyun: ...what's wrong with it this time?
charges: i don't know.
gijyun: bullshit. what happened? it was perfect.
charges: i tried to insert the code for comments but i think i fucked it up.
gijyun: fine; hold on.
a few minutes later...
gijyun: what the fuck? why is there four hundred fucking miles between each line of code? this is fucking ridiculous. this is going to take me hours.
charges: i know you can do it.
gijyun: shut up.
so rather than dink around on a blogger webpage, and being the self-proclaimed, self-taught and self-adored HTML prodigy that i am, i copy and past the code for her template onto a word document for ease of editing without a window inside a window.
297 pages.
the bitch took up 297 pages of space; that's how much space there was between each line of code.
so, i think to myself, here goes nothing.
i start deleting; line after line after line after line, after line...after line...after line...
when you do something that monotonous, your mind wanders into the most dialectically hypnotic of places.
i realized, amidst deleting hundreds of lines of unnecessary space, without even realizing that september is almost over, that not only did the ex not even return my email, but he came into town and left without so much as a phone call.
understandable, and actually preferable, but wtf?
i'd make some witty crack about how i need to revise my own emotional template, and delete all the unnecessary space of which i can't seem to let go, and spend some time revising and condensing and maintenancing, and thank myself for being resourceful, and be thankful for what i still have, and recognize how fucking far this last year has hurtled me...
...but that would just be sentimental bologna.
instead, while recognizing that i still have many pages of empty space to delete, make sure you get your ticket for the rollertrain's first annual comment fest, as you can now leave charges your own personal feedback.
not the sticky white kind, either. perverts.
posted by gijyun |
9.22.2004
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8:58 AM
i wanted to be with you alone...and talk about the weather.
gay gay gay.
not really; i just foresee a chain of demise. at least i can die knowing that one time, tmftml wanted to love all over me and called me absolutely brilliant.
s-t-a-r-f-u-c-k-e-r-s everywhere will weep with remorse.
i have pictures and stories and anecdotes and vicodin, all to share with you all from the past week, but am lacking motivation and/or inspiration. perhaps with my gall bladder, they took my essence.
you could be so lucky.
here's a quick list:
dan hinote is kind of a jerkoff.
doctors who tell you not to consume alcohol until two weeks post-surgery are full of crap.
on BMWs vs. Mercedes: The El says: if you want performence, you go with the beam. if you want the lizzadies, you go with the mercedes. that's why it ryhmes.
always check to see if something is closed before you make a trip.
a-see-jay-tee and mr. emm-tee are off to new york for a while, though they easily remain one of the few couples who actually made marriage look cool. congratualtions again, you beautiful losers. see you soon.
october is chock full of good shows.
i lost my checkcard.
the election is cancelled.
according to google, my blog totally kicks the real gideons' asses. not bad, not bad. gideon is like, my middle name. no, really.
see, i told you this shit is boring.
something happens and i'm head over heels.
gay gay gay.
not really; i just foresee a chain of demise. at least i can die knowing that one time, tmftml wanted to love all over me and called me absolutely brilliant.
s-t-a-r-f-u-c-k-e-r-s everywhere will weep with remorse.
i have pictures and stories and anecdotes and vicodin, all to share with you all from the past week, but am lacking motivation and/or inspiration. perhaps with my gall bladder, they took my essence.
you could be so lucky.
here's a quick list:
dan hinote is kind of a jerkoff.
doctors who tell you not to consume alcohol until two weeks post-surgery are full of crap.
on BMWs vs. Mercedes: The El says: if you want performence, you go with the beam. if you want the lizzadies, you go with the mercedes. that's why it ryhmes.
always check to see if something is closed before you make a trip.
a-see-jay-tee and mr. emm-tee are off to new york for a while, though they easily remain one of the few couples who actually made marriage look cool. congratualtions again, you beautiful losers. see you soon.
october is chock full of good shows.
i lost my checkcard.
the election is cancelled.
according to google, my blog totally kicks the real gideons' asses. not bad, not bad. gideon is like, my middle name. no, really.
see, i told you this shit is boring.
something happens and i'm head over heels.
posted by gijyun |
9.21.2004
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11:03 AM
not updating your blog is the new updating your blog.
posted by gijyun |
9.20.2004
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10:33 AM
i think it's time we took this relationship to the next level.
you can now have my online feature emailed to you daily.
http://denverpost.publishmail.com/login.html
and yes, mr. knowitall, this is my horn, and i will toot it as i see fit.
you can now have my online feature emailed to you daily.
http://denverpost.publishmail.com/login.html
and yes, mr. knowitall, this is my horn, and i will toot it as i see fit.
posted by gijyun |
9.16.2004
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3:01 PM
antiseptic, dr. jones?
tomorrow, i go under the knife, and i kiss my gall bladder goodbye.
the surgery calls for an empty diet with no alcohol from now until then, which means i won't be visiting the cole hauser-lookalike drummer this evening.
he'll be so disappointed, i'm sure.
i expect a speedy recovery, though my checkbook isn't quite as optimistic...
here's hoping that modern medicine isn't just a waste of billions of dollars of research funding. hopefully, i won't be blogging from the other side; but if i do, you all have my permission to act like you were my best friend while i was alive.
it would be so van gogh. wish me luck. send me presents.
posted by gijyun |
9.13.2004
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8:38 AM
i found a boy.
the kind of boy that's always on when you need him, and trips poetry when he talks.
he's got friends that are always with him, too. i like them a lot.
i'm fairly sure it's serious.
sweet jesus, i'm in love with matt pond PA.
a short list of my other current obsessions:
giles peterson
zero 7
daughter darling
jeremy enigk
louque (a week ago, he didn't even have a website...)
matt ryan
tegan and sara
frou frou
nedelle
saint etienne
he's got friends that are always with him, too. i like them a lot.
i'm fairly sure it's serious.
sweet jesus, i'm in love with matt pond PA.
a short list of my other current obsessions:
giles peterson
zero 7
daughter darling
jeremy enigk
louque (a week ago, he didn't even have a website...)
matt ryan
tegan and sara
frou frou
nedelle
saint etienne
posted by gijyun |
9.11.2004
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12:04 PM
dog days
a big shout out to summer '04. it's been real. psyche. thanks for the new apartment, though.
for as much shit as i talk about hippies, i sure hang out with them a lot. last night i found myself...again...at Sancho's, the legendary Denver dirty hippy watering hole.
but don't worry, the swastika i dared someone to draw on jerry garcia's forehead with my lip gloss the last time i was there...is still there.
buy me stuff!
like alcohol! hope to see you at the lounge list meeting tonight.
a big shout out to summer '04. it's been real. psyche. thanks for the new apartment, though.
for as much shit as i talk about hippies, i sure hang out with them a lot. last night i found myself...again...at Sancho's, the legendary Denver dirty hippy watering hole.
but don't worry, the swastika i dared someone to draw on jerry garcia's forehead with my lip gloss the last time i was there...is still there.
buy me stuff!
like alcohol! hope to see you at the lounge list meeting tonight.
posted by gijyun |
9.09.2004
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9:36 AM
now i'm gonna have that goddamned song in my head all day.
you have to belt it; i mean, belt it, if you want to have the full effect. my mad scientist older brother knows what i'm talkin' about.
and you have to kind of use like, a beavis voice. that's the best way i can describe it.
and it's madatory that you use sean kelly's apathetic hippy i-can't-sing-for-shit-but-i'm-famous-anyway tone.
NA-TURE...IS ALL AROUND MEEEE.
god, hippies are stupid.
you have to belt it; i mean, belt it, if you want to have the full effect. my mad scientist older brother knows what i'm talkin' about.
and you have to kind of use like, a beavis voice. that's the best way i can describe it.
and it's madatory that you use sean kelly's apathetic hippy i-can't-sing-for-shit-but-i'm-famous-anyway tone.
NA-TURE...IS ALL AROUND MEEEE.
god, hippies are stupid.
posted by gijyun |
9.08.2004
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9:37 AM
all over the world
it's become more of a sick joke, really.
i wouldn't classify myself as a killers nut, nor would i rank myself as the biggest pixies fan.
however, i do enjoy both of them; the pixies and i go way back to middle school when i would sneak around with walkman wires hidden by my flowing tom-boyish hair. we can thank charges for that.
but there's only one city in the world that would boast both the killers and the pixies playing on the same night.
...that's right. the mile high city.
p.s. i rule at Microsoft Paint.
are you looking for the mother load?
huh? no!
no, my child, this is not my desire...
i'm diggin for fire!
posted by gijyun |
9.03.2004
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8:37 AM
if al franken can do it...
the great american shout-out. he says any in opposition are instructed to throw open their windows at the first sight of george w. bush this evening during the RNC, and shout their contempt; use their voice as their rage-- to scream their discontentment into the unwavering atmosphere across the duality that is the united states of america. he encourages us to encourage others to encourage anyone to participate.
i'll be doing it strictly because i can't afford to pay t-mobile until friday...so screeching out the window seems like an attractive alternative.
on that note,
moving should be a four-letter word. no wait, roommates should be a four-letter word. no wait, landlords should be a four-letter word. no wait, deposit should be a four-letter word.
no wait, first and last month's rent due up front should be a word that, when uttered, make children scream and mothers weep in a "dear god, what is that thing?" manner.
i feel angry. i feel used. i feel,
in a word,
burninated.
trogdor in '04
and if that doesn't inspire you to move to this urban cow town, this will...
i'll be doing it strictly because i can't afford to pay t-mobile until friday...so screeching out the window seems like an attractive alternative.
on that note,
moving should be a four-letter word. no wait, roommates should be a four-letter word. no wait, landlords should be a four-letter word. no wait, deposit should be a four-letter word.
no wait, first and last month's rent due up front should be a word that, when uttered, make children scream and mothers weep in a "dear god, what is that thing?" manner.
i feel angry. i feel used. i feel,
in a word,
burninated.
trogdor in '04
and if that doesn't inspire you to move to this urban cow town, this will...
posted by gijyun |
9.02.2004
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8:19 AM
this old house
...piece of crap that it is.
the last week, along with the next few days, will have been spent on the mundane details of moving, packing, scrubbing, clearing and cleaning. in this fifth year of the second milennium of poular history of mankind, i can't, for the life of me, understand why we don't have robots to do this shit for us.
you show me a person who enjoys moving, i'll show you a certifiable nutjob.
to counter the neurotic twitching that comes along with such a task, we took off to jessica's, who was crying and moaning because she just had knee surgery. what a baby.
we brought her flowers, and the grocery store happened to have barbie dolls on sale for $1.79. when we first saw cali-girl barbie, we thought she had gauze on her head (from a tragic boogie boarding incident, perhaps?). turns out it was actually supposed to be a trendy crocheted beanie.
...made out of gauze.
anyway, just to give a glimpse as to how the west coast represents (through mattel©, anyway), here's a better look.
what the fuck is up with that tan? who the fuck wears mesh vests with hoods in california? is that supposed to be opal around her neck? did she pay for those highlights? is she a surfer or a gangsta? and i'm sorry...is that a livestrong bracelet she's wearing?
i tell you, the older i get, the crazier this train drives. here's to barbie.
we must have just run out of ideas or something.
posted by gijyun |
9.01.2004
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8:37 AM
