July 06, 2002 :: 3:21 p.m.
old men like raspberry pastries
So I'm all loving this CD and stuff. The Sheila Nicholls one, I mean. And she's so cute and dreadlocked and lip pierced. Wee! I think I may use her in a new layout, because this one just has to go away. Soon.
In other news, my legs hurt something vicious. I'm not sure why. I'm not exactly a superstar when it comes to being physically active. Perhaps it's from too much sex. But ah, there is no such thing as too much sex. Heh. Speaking of, I got off work early. I wasn't supposed to leave until 4:30, but we were dead so I was sent home. Nice, nice, nice. Okay, so that really had nothing to do with sex at all, but hey. Stewart overslept this morning, which wouldn't have been a big deal if he hadn't been the one who was supposed to open the store. When I got there, it was still dark and locked up. Uh... shit, I thought to myself. Eventually Wanda and a new girl (Crystal) shower up, and we got Joe to come let us in. From that point until about 11, we were ungodly busy. It was disgusting. The American MusicFest was going on by the river (or somewhere like that), so I guess that was the reason. But it sucked, and then it died, and then I got to go home. All in all, a decent day at work.
I started Wild Sheep Chase at work this morning. It's good, of course. All of Murakami's books are. They're also quite fucked up, which is just an added bonus. I love things that fuck with my mind. I do not, however, love people who fuck with my mind. There's a difference. Movies and books that fuck with you make you think; people who fuck with you make you want to hang yourself with a chain of twist-ties. At least that's how I feel. But then, we should all know by now that what I feel usually isn't right. I'm all backward like that.
All right, well, I'm done here. I'm in dire need of a shower and things like that.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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