This journal is going friends only. :o)

Well, no tattoo, which really sucks. But, the reason being is that it has to have some finishing touches to make it worthwhile. After that, it will be on next tuesday night. Therefore, I have more reason to party my soul away without the worries of inconsiderate little mongrils bumping and grinding on *MY* dancespace and messing up something that ( Read more... )

mmmmmhhmmmm....t-minus three days and counting ( Read more... )

I am a little awe-stricken after having watched The Pianist. It really wrapped me in, and gave me that little lip quiver a few times, yknow, the one you get right before you burst into tears. It would not have been so moving had it not been based on one of our world's most darkest moments in history. The horrifying stories and tribulations of the ( Read more... )

I refuse to watch shows merely based on the concept of plastic surgery. Also, I refuse to watch shows based on the concepts of love and money that has these plastic people debating on one or the other. It's as if watching one show is the creation of this artificial human being prepared to be set off into the wild that is "Joe Millionaire," or ( Read more... )

So, now that I'm back home in the confines of pollution and sweltering heat, I feel the need to proffess my love for Santa Cruz. It is such a beautiful city, with opened armed people. We had an excellent time throughout the whole weekend. I'm happy that Nykki's birthday could be so fulfilling for all of us. We managed to have such a good time, no ( Read more... )

I still have two semesters at the jc, and only three classes I have to take in order to transfer. Three! So, why two semesters? Well, two of the three are mathematics, and God knows how considerably horrible I am at this particular subject. Nonetheless, I'm going to rape, pillage, and plunder the numerical demons tormenting my soul. That, or maybe ( Read more... )

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Yet another morning I wake up, and I'm still not Johnny Depp... I wish I didn't have to work this weekend. Doc Martin is playing a four hour set in the city. For me, four hours of deep, deep house can be like an epic sensual love story on the dance floor, filled to the brim with enough plot twists to shake my body to pieces. I often think of house ( Read more... )

A door-to-door salewoman walked into my work today. She asked me:

"Wouldn't you like a fresh new start?"

With a sneering smile, "Where would it take me?"

Nowhere I presumed. She babbled about some nonsense product, then turned around and left.