Like living in a Xeroxed Cotton Ball.
When the show was over we celebrated "Not Living Our Lives In a Fucking Xerox Cottonball."
I went to the bathroom and when I came back there was an impromtu dance party without music going on in the living room.
And Mex was taping my M&M jar shut.
And playing with markers always leads to this:
*shakes head* That's one of the pictures that made me laugh all over again when I was resizing it.
No Edwards were hurt in the making of this picture.
Now I'm off to look for a "Ski Iraq" muscle tee.
God damn do I cherish Six Feet Under nights! Even if this was the craziest one so far. I <3 my friends. We have too much damn fun.
Matt and I were listening to his Mitch Hedburg CDs on his iPod today. I feel so privaliged to have seen him live before he died.
"It's a good thing fish can't scream because the ocean would be loud as fuck. You would not want to submerge your head in here because all you'd hear is fish screaming, 'Aw, fuck! I thought I looked like that rock.'"
I really want pull a "Say Anything" and play "In Your Eyes" out of a boom box, really loud, in the middle of the night, on someone's lawn. Screw having that done TO me, I'd just do it to someone. Hell, I'll go to Alix's right now and do it. If only I had a boom box.
Cargo Pant Day should be a legal fucking holiday.