January 2010
8 posts
Last night, I’m sorry the moon had to witness:
• the two military guys, teaching Jonathan and I life lessons and making out with well, overaged females.
• the invisible joint
• drunk pizza…so good
• my long island, everclear, and hand grenade extravaganza.
• EMILY FLYING HER PLANE AND FUCKING CRASHING.
• the weird Mexican dude, and our bonding from talking about classical...
Note to everyone:
Never smoke serenity. Just don’t. Unless you have intentions on meeting up with your childhood bestfriend, eating dinner with his mom, and vomiting 10 minutes later, then go for it. My intestines ached of despair and my legs were immensely friggid, sitting on a toilet. Pure nostalgia, my friend. Pure nostalgia. With a bong, that is.
@ Jordan
It’s not a family thing ha. I’m not a big drinker, either. But nah it’s not that bad, if anything Vanity will be with us, most likely at The Pub. It’s filled with less twinks, and a lot of Lady Gaga. Amen.
@ Jordan
I think I’m going to the French Quarter parade with Sara, Jonathan, Chin, etc. You should come. We’ll probably just walk around, hit up the gaybar and get some sushi after.
And so the nicotine attacks the body once again. Congratulations, Marlboro Smooths, you win. The habitual wheezing and obnoxious coughs. Yet, the psychology of the situation is once again convoluted and quite annoying. One word is the epitome of this: WHATEVER.
