I'm obsessed with reading other people's personal lives again. help me god. this guy is good. pay him attention.
coolest sensitive dude
Thursday, July 04, 2002
talking about the weather is totally lame and all that i know, but man, fuck, this heat is just killing me. it turns me into a complete lazy, greasy slob who won't leave the house 'til it gets dark. i swear it. plus i ride my bike everywhere these days so it gets me doubly sweaty/exhausted. smoking when it's hot also sucks. you can feel your insides burning and u get wicked lightheaded. i wish i had AC. it would make not leaving the apt. more worth it and then i wouldn't have to hang around the grocery store so much.
Wednesday, July 03, 2002
i did five stupid things last nite:
rode bike along bloor for twenty minutes in the wrong direction
decided to ride back but then was too tired
was going to take subway back but as i was carrying my bike down the stairs the chain fell off and so i spent 15 minutes trying to get it back on. got grease/oil all over myself
was a turnstile entrance thing and i had no token to get thru, so going all the way down the stairs, having bike chain fall off wasn't even worth it and then when i went to the other entrance i was so out of breath/exhausted that i let go of my fucking bike and it fell all the way down the fucking stairs
was 1.5 hours late in meeting friends.
my life is hell. yes. anyway, here's a poem-thing i wrote. Ode to Pharmaceutical Narcotics
i'm probably never going to hear the end of this from my mum but, meh. a raymi admirer sent this all the way from france and i thought it was far too sexy to keep to myself.
oh man what a weekend. gayed it up at the gay parade thing, beer-gardened it for a bit then over to a ragin' booty call of a party wherein the birthday girl smashed out a tooth from hitting the corner of a table with her mouth - she was duct-taped and therefore was unable to break fall (email me heather, tell me how you're doing btw). however, partying carried on 'til the wee hours - plenty of tit-baring, lapdances, grinding and slapping across faces. photos to prove it, eventually. apparently i can be a bit manipulative/masochist-like when drunk. meh. "Come on, no one's looking. show me your tits...." i want people to start emailing me and lemme know whether they be comin' to my b-side thinga-ma-jig. please do that. firstname.lastname@example.org