January 25, 2004 :: 12:51 a.m.
I want dinosaur gummies
I am listening to the
Want One b-sides on Rufus' website. Mmmm. I feel like I shouldn't be writing while I listen to them. Like it's blasphemous.
This man needs to come to my house and sing to me. Now. Anytime. Forever. And since he's gay, it's not all screaming fan-girl romantic. It's more like hanging out with Joe, only instead of watching Buffy and bitching about our problems he could sing and make me forget about my problems. And then we'd probably watch Buffy and eat pizza and bitch about other things. Because gay men are the best, especially when they have voices that make me all tingly.
Ahem. Moving on, then. I'm sitting here in what has been my nightly uniform since coming down with the Super Flu - favorite maroon sweatshirt, annoyingly over-sized fleece pants, monkey slippers. It's like the official uniform of Team Comfy. Except that I've been wearing it to bed for a solid week and a half, at least 6 days of which I spent infested with snot and germs, and now, the uniform? She needs washed. In a bad way. Most of my clothes need washed, in fact, because I tend to just throw them in a pile and ignore them until I run out of clean things. Which I pretty much have. So I think tomorrow will be designated as Laundry Day, as much as I hate hate hate doing laundry. Because I want to wear this most wonderful of sweatshirts to class on Monday night, and as of right now I cannot do that without a) being dirty and b) passing my illness onto my fellow classmates. Also, I'm out of socks. And underwear. So, laundry. It will get done. I hope.
Adam and I went to BJ's today (could they have chosen a more innuendo-licious name?) to check out the bulk-buying goodness. I have to say... pretty impressive. Also pretty intimidating, though. Everyone was pushy and rushing around with their carts and looking generally grumpy. We ended up purchasing one 50-pack of blank CDs each and a box of nummy-looking chocolates for his dad to send to someone. Mmm, chocolates. My favorite are the fruity cream-filled variety. Any flavor cream-filled, actually. Except for the obviously nasty ones like maple. Because maple? Maple cream? Is just nine kinds of ew.
We passed by the Salvation Army this afternoon, and one glance at the parking lot had me shaking my head in dismay. Seriously, why the fuck is Sal's always so crowded these days? And even more why the fuck is the parking lot filled with Saabs and BMWs and other fancy little penis cars? Because hey, guess what? All you people with Saabs and BMWs and other fancy little penis cars? Shouldn't be shopping at the Salvation Army! Accept the fact that you have entirely too much money, and then take that money and spend it at expensive department stores. Do not take that money and go down to Sal's and buy up all of MY fun 99-cent t-shirts, you rich, greedy bastards. Because whereas YOU can trundle on down to an actual store and buy shiny new things without a second thought, I cannot. I like the things that I find at Sal's, yes. But I do not shop there entirely by choice. I do not have a lot of money. My parents, while they have substantially more money than I do, still do not have a lot of money. And I do not like to ask them to buy me clothes, because I'm aware of this lack of money. So I take what I make at my crappy retail job and I buy 99-cent t-shirts and sweaters at Sal's. You? Have no such excuse. So get the fuck out of my thrift store before I do something horrible to your fancy little penis car and make you cry.
Grr. So irritating.
I just discovered that one of the plurals of "stamen" is "stamina." Interesting. No, really. I like it when words do double duty. It's s-s-sex-ay.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005