Saturday nights are so weird. I feel weird.
Yesterday Petit brought over a purple painting for the living room and it looks rad.
She also got drunk and told Katie she could have her shoes. Katie will remind her. Many times. Until she gets them.
Sam was in a special people mood and sang her own drunken inspired version of "Rehab" for about 15 minutes with no musical accompaniment.
"Theyyy tryya meeeeahhh gooo ta rehhaybuh , I seh nooooooooo"
Sams deep ass voice and her disgusting one eyebrow raise made this a horrifying and hilarious experience for me.
Thankfully, someone else excelled in retardation level, letting Sam off the hook.
Some random guy was texting Katie about weird things and asking her shit and he was including emoticons. Mhm. This is her reaction.
I'm just as eyyo technology as the next person, but I really think men should get some strap on ballsacks and just call already. If you think a girl is spesh, you're going to have to actually talk to her at some point.
The 15-in-a-row text messages are A) fucking creepy and B) they will just get passed around for her girlfriends to look at and then you are a joke. A very stalkery joke. So get with the program.
It was then time to watch Let Me Borrow That Top.
We also had to watch Hideous Kinky. Because it's a fantastic movie. I want to go to Morocco.
Whatever, yes, I am cliche like that. A white girl who wants to revel in the culture of northern Africa. Sue me. I have nothing. Ugh the two kids in that movie are so amazing I want to be 5 and only wear underpants. And not sweat in the 110 degree Morocco weather.
OMG this movie is so seriouslahh.
Then I couch danced while we watched Purple Rain.
You gotta purify yourself in the waters of Lake Minnotonka.
Girl, that ain't Lake Minnetonka.
Appolonia had great breasts.
Sometimes I love pot because it makes things funnier.
I made tater tots to a perfect crispness and I think I invented something called the eternal penis, but as expected, I have no recollection today what that meant. It meant something hilarious, but now it just sounds like a quirky alt rock band. Opening tonight for Rasputin in Suede, Eternal Penis!
(scattered clapping, singular woo from the girlfriend of the drummer. Cough.)
I'm listening to Karen Dalton and I don't even like her music. I think her voice is shit really. it's not sexy at all. It's grating.
Fuck that bitch.
I think the only way to force yourself to go out is to take a shower.
I refuse to shower.
Take that to the chicken coop.
I heard someone say that once and really what could that mean?
I may just be quoting someone wrong maybe it wasn't chicken coop but now that I've put it out there I'm going to run with it.
PS I saw a grown ass woman on Friday afternoon riding a Razor scooter. She was wearing the upper east side uniform of sordidly overpriced casual wear and totally uncalled for fancy shoes. She def had her face done, and she probably hadn't even hit 35 yet. Super blond hair, overwhelming amount of jingly accouterment.
She looked happy as a suburban Jap in Express just scooting past everyone.
I think that if I had the bloodlust at all, that is who I would choose to murder.
Heres a picture of my boyfriend getting into some charming tomfoolery. Aw.