trying on these lives

recent re-living of Altman-mania pour mon examen has me in an okay spot,.

Short Cuts DVD in the schoolio library comes with the Raymond Carver short stories, which, well, rools.

i got nothing.

i got nothing other than if this weekend didn't come into reality, I would likely still be pouting over the series of shite-ended events that have been attempting to plauge my nomadic ways.
what can i say other than that a) some people spoil the shit out of me and b) i'm likely the most impatient mammal going.

as buddy Joe Walsh would say, life's been good to me so far, and so it has! I'm slowly departing from the final bit of teen angst that has attached itself to my extrodinarily early-20's.

thanks for loving me long time.

i feel that new-neighbour-buddy recieved with utmost clairvoyance the slight hint dropped on him recently.. i'm still a nice person, right? i can prove it, and still someday manage to maintain a neighbourgly-ness about myself that excludes the person through the wall next to you's hyper-awareness of your, well, everything! all my neighbours are kramer-esque.

i've been tired.

i'll have better stories once you deserve them.

DeLillo and I are off . . .[]

interview her uterus. that's where all the plots intersect. talk to her nipples. her nipples are sensitive to messages from orbiting satellites. you'll get some stimulating quotes. talk to her clitoris. you'll have to submit question in advance. the clitoris doesn't always speak to me. but it will speak to you. it speaks in codes. it speaks in tongues.