last night was cold, but i was with you.
me, myself and the shins. time i spent not thinking for myself. sitting.
stinky and i did lunch at texadelphia so we could clog our arteries for the day. we once decided to co-found the heart attack awareness organization in which we as leaders and our following would frequent the greasiest and most fattening restaurants to prepare for our own heart attack. the group plan of action: heart attack by age twenty-four. she made the wise observation that "indie rockers are wannabe construction workers" after i took note of a strutting indie rock old man wearing bad ass paint covered light blue dickies near home depot. our band will be called rosencrantz and guildenstern. and the two of us will have horrible orgasmic dance moves; the public will love it. i don't even remember why i made her laugh so hard, but i do remember we were laughing togehter as i fall back into my booth and she throws her head back. team stinky smelly.
pretty pink prom dresses with tulle and black lace, subtle flowers and low neckline. bold crimson satin sleek. no department store carbon copy, no elite "where the pretentious go to dress up" polyester four hundred dollar skirt and blouse combo. my date and i to wear matching converse in less than one hundred days (according to the school paper). allow me to enjoy the epitome of highschool for one evening. alison and i sent dresses back and forth to one another.
the notorious c.l.v. esquire and myself plan to throw a party in which guest will sit around the fire place drinking hot chocolate and speaking of cosmopolitain issues, philosphy, good novels, the future of mankind, our own future and the occasional queef/fart/pussy/sorority girl/vulgar and misinformed comment. we're good kids, trust me...
currently spinning: goldfrapp: lovely head