Friday, December 20, 2002


I Feel Sorry For Those Of You Who Don't Drink...

because when you wake up in the morning, that's as good as you're going to feel for the rest of the day. DINO

Now I will give you updates all night, as long as I'm in the house, as to what's going on at the moment...

Just Finished:

Beer 1 - 6:42 pm - I've talked to four or five friends on the phone. They're gonna stop by for some drinks. So that means I better do whatever I want to do soon before anybody gets here. I need to brush my teeth. Stanky.

Beer 2 - 7:41 pm - Girlfriend just called. I'm supposed to call her back when she's drunk. Now me and Mark are slow dancing.

Beer 3 - 8:20 pm - I've already managed to knock the two stupid cat towel holders off with a pink ball I was throwing around. Mark is now playing a drum set that's in the middle of my living room. Courtney's coming over. We need film.

Beer 4 - I just finished playing drums to Micheal Jackson's BEAT IT, and as I sat down to type this, the ASH from ARMYS OF DARKNESS doll that I have next to the computer said, "Groovy!" Not yet. It's still just me and Mark. Another beer done. God save the queen. The cunt.

Beer 5 - 8:55 pm - We're trying to get our rock star friend luis over here. He's mexican, so I told him to fly over here on a tortilla-but he said he's going to show up somehow. I don't know why he can't drive. License suspended or something? Joe's bringing over the film for the camera. I hope Luis doesn't steal it...

Beer 6 - 10:33 pm - Somebody's shooting me with a toy gun. Mark posted " I Hate Jews!" on this site. I had to erase it. We're looking at pictures of Luis' tour in Scotland. My girlfriend is not answering her phone. I put out chips for everyone and I saw Mike Myers ( not the actor ) stick his finger in his nose and then rummage for more chips.

Beer 7 - So now I'm defending myself. There's a crowd around me as I type this. Let me state this...right now...I am not a RACIST. by the way....They say that I'm typing too fast...p.s.....I'M not a racist...

Beer 8 - 11:57 Amy is now opening up Anne's xmas invite. People are shooting balls at me. No, it's not sexual. There's some super-model here. Who the hell is she? I had to take out the trash. And Amy just shot out the toy balls from Mark's xmas present to me from her vagina. Or at least pretended to. Who's this playing on the stereo? The Stones? Somebody smells like Pepporoni...aw fuck it. How do you spell it...it's meat, yo.

Beer 9 - Okay. We're going to play a couple of songs...even the guy from the comic book store is here right now....UPDATE...Camback just asked me if it was okay to plug in his vaporizer? I had to have him explain what it was for...fucking pot smokers....I've never heard that b4...okay I have to play now....

Beer 10/11/12 - Hey, where'd the comic book guy go? I lost count, sorry. Too much has happened. Too much noise and too much foolish shenanigans. Somebody just breathed in my ear. I might give up soon. We played a couple of songs. That was a mistake. Drums in a living room is not good when you have people over. I bought gum at the store too. It was Big League Chew. It reminded me of Little League. Crimson and Clover is playing. Apparently it's a hit because now everybody's making more noise than before.

Beer 13/14/15? - 3:50 am - After the neighbor...is that how you spell it? showed up...I've tried to keep it down. Luis is playing babies breath drums and Ryan is just playing.

Beer Infinity - 6:01 am - All humans must hate me. Her I'm trying to have a conversation with my drummer, who's curled up in one of my nappy ass blankets and all that he wants to do is go to sleep. I'm wide awake, of course. Doing NOW exactly what I wanted to do before, even though I had fun tonight. Not too much fun-but mellow fun. Before sleep, I'm thinking about tomorrow. I will have a smile on my face. I'll have a hard time explaining the night to the girl when she gets back because not much happened. But everything happened though, didn't it? There were a million funny-ass, hilarious conversations and small, smatterings of important life blurbs that made all of tonights nothingness...worth something. Me and Tom reading an old story that we both wrote together, to what? A bunch of small nothing stories. That's it. Breakfast at noon. Goodnight....

punctuation and spelling be damned.

Good night...sweet bastards.









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