finished! last final = TOASTIE! like, bacon and cheese toastie.

(i.e., a grilled cheese sandwich. new zealand english = AWFUL.)

sooooooooooooo this is me doing a fucking happy dance. bear with me. won't take long, and i swear i won't make anyone watch.

and the little goofyshit icon for this mood is retarded-as. i love it.

(attributed to stephen wright ( Read more... )

point: nixon was bad news for twenty fucking years before watergate, and a douchebag all his life ( Read more... )

neurosisyphusean. adj. pertaining to anxiety, phobia or abnormal behavior exhibiting repeated futile but necessary attempts to "succeed."

papers = death. slow, adhd death.

maybe i don't wanna finish anything, anymore
maybe i'll just lie in bed until she comes home

amity amity amity amity amity amity amity, caught stars in her arms
hello hello kitty happy in New York City, amity walking like a lucky charm

so. four nights of drinking in a five night period. i think that may be a new record for the normally tame li'l ol' me. birthdays = badnewsbears for one's liver around here. but fuckin' a, if kings last night wasn't the greatest drinking game in the history of alcohol. the "get up, spin, and twirl into the seat next to you when an odd card is ( Read more... )

this was gonna be one of those "this is what i've been up to" entries. but i've never been one for straight-up journalism.

so instead, the music is good, the night is lazy, and i'm kinda basking in it. there's nothing quite like beer, apples, cashews, and cds to round out an eventful week.

thought for the day: it's more than a bit odd, ( Read more... )

indietits! courtesy of jeph jaques of QC fame/infamy.

tit 1: man, i don't understand why all the girls are crazy about that conor oberst dude.
tit 2: what the heck are you talking about? we're tits. tiny little birds. female tits don't give a shit about conor oberst.
tit 1: i think it's mostly his hair. my plumage simply can't compete ( Read more... )

what happens to a dream deferred?

does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
or fester like a sore-
and then run?
does it stink like rotten meat?
or crust and sugar over-
like a syrupy sweet?

maybe it just sags like a heavy load.

or does it explode?