I have been complaining a lot about the same shit. Mostly that I'm drinking too much and I am totally over being single.
I think the saddest part is, drunk girls are NOT attractive. They are loud and confusing and sometimes floozies.
I honestly don't think blogs are the place for an exploration of the deep deep dark stinky self, so instead of bitching I would rather talk about things I have been up to.
Thursday I drank some beer and youtube video traded with Andy. He sent me this horrible shit about how swords are dangerous, and yes, sometimes they kill asians. I felt like I was watching trailer trash nazi propoganda leftovers.
The guy in the video, I can garauntee he eats Hungry Man every single night.
And he does it old school, no microwave, it goes in a filthy oven with holes poked in the plastic. Ugh. I fear other people in ways I can't tell.
After that I forced myself out of bed to go to Mr. Alger's gallery showing waaaaaay over on the west side.
When will there be a train that goes further west than 8th? Ever? For the love of god it is a TREK.
I spent 40 minutes getting over there and had to pee the whole time. It was absolute torture.
But it was nice when I got there, everything looked really lovely, I was proud.
Sometimes I love gallery thingies because there are always super insane people walking around in just the right element.
Like the 70 year old man with the weird glasses and the mooseknuckle ball grab pants. He always has annoying items attached to his lapel, or is using some kind of walking stick, or shows up eating something you don't really eat in public, like some kind of fritter or a complicated fruit.
There was a hot bald Scottish guy there wearing a kilt. I obviously had to ask him what was under it and he said these magical words, "On a good night, honey....just lipstick."
Ummmm. awesome? I'd get on tappa theat.
I chatted lots with Staten Island Frank about how great Luther Vandross is and then I cut out of there and went home to see Sam and buddy up with my roommate and his friend Scott.
Good times.
Scott asks my advice about girls and I am the last person you should ever ask about anything. Not only am I totally full of shit, but I have no idea what actual girls are like. I don't follow the girl rules because they are a complex smattering of nonsense.
We took some pictures praying to god and I somehow ended up with black spray paint all over my wall.
Nightmare.
I then waited patiently all through Friday and Saturday for Burrito Party at Kaitlins.
I like to arrive places early because I am an anxious nerd.
Corrine Sterp and I "helped" my cutting things up and stirring things and I more or less diced one pepper then walked around with a vodka soda getting in the way.
I brought glazed donuts.
Nonsensical. Yet delish.
Lots of good people, chatty chat chat.
Then we all sat around with gluttonous piles of ingredient atop little wraps. Glory.
The only words said were, "I cannot close my burrito" and "this is the best burrito of all time"
Nothing else.
Seriously though, I do think my burrito was the best of all time.
Nonfiction.
Kaitlin is a really amazing hostess and everything was pretty and perfect and yummy.
Except the weird smell dish which had garlic and change in it.
I think that was a mistake.
Look I am in a delicious dish induced coma.
I revealed to Louie and Ambular that yes they do in fact hold the best couple title for being attractive and being good at telling tales together.
Then I wanted to throw up because Louie started telling stories about cute children and Ambular got twinkly eyed and told me the romantic origins of how they met and I wanted to tell them they will fail in love just like the rest of us.
Just kidding.
Not really.
But they are cute. The End.
Sterp got very drunk and that is very funny to me lately because shes not really the type. She sort of turns into a Krissyesque drunk by saying rude things that make people uncomfortable. Then she just stares at you.
We had a fantastic discussion at one point about how sortof fat guys are totally hot.
Sortof fat guys have gut protrusion and love handles. They do not call them love handles for nothing.
They are not so fat that you see them as comical, but they are not so thin that you see them as little faggers.
Perfection.
I talked to Corrine and Dballs forever about I don't know what.
The important things are as follows:
1. Corrine invented a word that is perfect to say in the Katherine Hepburn old lady shake voice. It is a combination of owl and pineapple.
Say it out loud now:
Pineowple.
Very good Corrine, very good.
on another note, Corrine is gay.
2. I gave Dballs a new name which I don't know if I like yet. Dballs is not funny anymore so it has to be changed to TBones. But Tbones sounds like TBoz and there is absolutely nothing funny about that.
3. We discussed my excellent tarot card reader, Miss Flo Higgins, and I think there will have to be a trip to Jersey so we can all go talk to her and watch her run her uncomfortably long fingernails through her silvery hair.
Yessss.
All of the girls at Kaitlins were wearing pretty dresses and I have to say the 5 whole boys that were there were very lucky. I lied maybe there were 10 boys at one point.
Speaking of boys, I think I realized I was drinking too much when I told Farmer that we have the exact same boots but neither of us were wearing them, and I didn't wear MINE because I hated the idea of matching him.
Why. Do. I. Talk. At. All.
I have been saying it a lot lately, sometimes you just find yourself acting SO WEIRD around people and then you walk away and you're like, what in holy hell was I just saying?
Another case.
I spent the whole night addressing Kaitlins sister as "Small Kaitlin"
That is weird and not ok.
It is very stupid and probably annoying for her.
I would like to say the most important thing on my mind right now it not burritos. Or small kaitlins. or pineowples.
But that I really miss someone right now and it makes me feel like talking about fun things is a little bitty white lie.
Someone put a pacie in my mouth and rock me to sleepies.
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