Today at 3PM, in honor of the first full day friday and Maria's Venetican Getaway, we're having Cocktail Hour/s. RAPE THE INTERN

I wanna listen to Wilco in a hammock alongside a gentle stream while sipping a Mystic fruit punch; no, no, I just want to me asleep ANYWHERE like N. Korea; WHEREEVER just asleep ( Read more... )

I pretty much feel like a sleepy, wet ashtray. Waking up hungover at 8ish and getting on two different trains is fucking terrible. I used to do this much more often and cant imagine that now; this sucks ( Read more... )

I have to admit something -- I MUST, I MUST; the dirty, filthy shame is gnawing away at my 97.3% pure soul. I revel in the gorgeously exclusive feeling of listening to CDs before theyre released, seeing press screenings before the film is out & reading advance readers copies before the plebians can storn the b&n. Oh, my vanquished shame is ( Read more... )

Self-Control is like my favorite song; *sobs* Justin, please read as Laura's example should make you think twice about diminishing the seriousness of your headaches ( Read more... )

OMG, we were billed twice for the toner!!!!!!! Luckily the "literary associate" is doing battle with them on the telephone. Meanwhile, the book-keeper listens in and sporadically offers "it's a scam" and chuckles to herself. Now the book-keeper is extolling the genuis of "Middlesex." Now, she's talking to herself ( Read more... )

I plan on taking advantage of my Half-Day friday, by fashioning a fiercely anti-Republican outfit; subtle, yet somehow electrifying, which is seemingly a paradoz, but arent you, by now, familiar with the force that is BSJ...Republican is maybe too specialized, maybe Ill just be Anti-American...I want a large baby doll, which Ill label "Freedom" and ( Read more... )

I have two zits on my forehead; TWO. After puzzling over changes in the environment that might have bred these oily nightmares I came to a firm conclusion: Republicans! Fuckers. I mean I wasnt gonna protest, because, really -- *I* know Republicans suck-ass, but what does protesting really do, I mean (c'mon, kids, particularly when a shocking ( Read more... )

At 8, I was afraid of aliens and their rumored abductions. Why not me? The televisions showed the houses that the aliens encroached and they looked normal, with sunny kitchens and comfortable couches. My house was the same. I'd tremble in bed and look in my closet for the umpteenth time. Sometimes, my parents would allow me the sanctuary of ( Read more... )

Jared hit me up for an "intellectual chic" question to pose to Mr. Polluted Waters and he's actually going to use a version of what I suggested; bwahahaha ( Read more... )