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2003-11-04 - 1:32 p.m. we're only human, don't think i haven't been in the same predicament - lauryn hill
i know that halloween has come and gone, but, i just that the picture shown above is fantastic. okay, so, halloween. it was a bust...sort of. it most definitely was for the kids. it was pouring rain, so, most people i talked to had next to no trick or treaters. i can't ever remember having halloween being rained out. those poor little bastard kids got gyped. our plans went quite well. the party was moved indoors. ramiro did put up heat lamps, and heavy tarps to create a dancefloor/smokers patio before the rain, but, for the most part, the revelers kept their scantilly clad asses indoors. our costumes looked pretty cool. chad's costume was hot. after a few hours, and many cocktails, the three of us were bumping & grinding like our lives depended on it. the party was so much fun. the dj was the shit. i was so useless the next day. matty was too. we slept til like noon. or, I slept till noon, and my beloved sauntered into the kitchen around 2. i was peeling potatos, and he actually scared the shit out of me. anyhow, we made brunch, showered, and went back to bed. when i woke up awhile later, matt had performed his famous spooning trick. he was rubbing his legs up and down mine. his smooth legs sliding against my hairy legs drives us both fucking bonkers. add the fact that he always has his hands inside my underwear, rubbing my thighs, or, sometimes in a more centralized place, all while nibbling my earlobe, and you've got yourself a writhing, horned up wreck. anyway, i just got an mp3 player, and i'm obssessed with it. adding and deleting songs, switching the order of the songs, downloading songs, and just being a geek. i just love the fact that i can have josie cotton's "johnny are you queer?", the pixies, "wave of mutilation", some live strokes bootlegs , and "white lines", by grandmaster flash, while i'm working my buns on the stair stepper. it's genius. i really want an ipod. part of me is like, 'what the hell do you need that much music capacity for?'. i mean, maybe on a cross country trip, and by car. the other part is like, 'why not? that's fucking bitchin'. yes. i did just type bitchin'. do people in other states still say bitchin'? i've definitely still got some valley girl in me. although, the words, "rad", "stoked", and "like" are most predominate in my everyday vocabulary. i'm 30. it's like totally not my fault though, you know? it's all like that moon unit zappas doing, fer sure. so, like, shut yer face. i'm listening to the cooper temple clause, right now. i bought this album in san francisco, a few months back, listened to it, and pretty much discarded it. i liked it, but didn't love it. this happens quite often, so you just have to put that stuff on the shelf for a bit. i pulled it out today, and i'm fucking loving it. for some reason, it doesn't sound anything at all how i remember it sounding. go figure. anyway, the cooper temple clause - "see this through and leave". check it out. i was also listening to, "the miseducation of lauryn hill", this morning. such a great fucking album. what happened to this poor woman? she got all religious, and freak mamma, and now doesn't make music anymore? oh, they gave the u.s. version of "coupling" the ol' heave ho. no surprise there. i tried to watch it. the cast was good looking, the plots were directly lifted from their counterparts across the pond, but, there was something missing. it just didn't play as funny. see, kev, we were right. i watched 8 mile sunday. i like it. i wanted so badly to not like it. i think eminem is a dick. not because of his gay bashing, or misogyny (although, i'm not crazy about either), but, i hate what a baby he is. he talks long shit about everyone, sells millions of albums, makes shitloads of money, wins awards for these shit talking lyrics, AND THEN, AND THEN, has the nerve to complain about the backlash. turns himself into a victim. i have this...life philosophy...theory, i don't know what to call it. how 'bout just plain common sense. you can say / do whatever you want. if i walk up to a guy, call him a fuckface, or call some random female a cum guzzling whore, or throw a brick through my neighbors window, or bite matts dick off next time we're in bed, well, i can. it's possible. any of those things are possible. but, here's the thing, the guy i call a fuckface can fuck me up, maybe even shoot me. the girl i call a whore can kick me squawinthenuts. my nieghbors can set my house on fire. matt can strangle me in my sleep. you can do/say whatever you want, but, whoever you do stuff to, they can do something right back. so if you're gonna dish it out, you better damn well be able to take it. especially it it's how you're gonna make your mad cheese, yo. it's like, you say what you want and you either don't care, or expect people to be able to take a joke. how come you can't/ don't feel you have to do the same? i'm hungry. later |
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