Well, I'm nbow violating the only rule i've ever had about blogging, and that is, don't do it when you're drunk. well, when i'm drunk. you never Seem to notify me when you're drunk, so it's hard to tell. Haha, I made a joek.
Raine is on TV. Or was. Man I love that kid. Sing like Canadians: We are all innocent. What does it mean that we are all innocent?
The best way to predict the future is to invent it.
Anyways, K did something tonight that I haven't done since high school: fuzzy navels. And olts of them. Big ones. More fuzzy than navel. Who thought this would be a good idea? I don't know what we did tonight. There was that grail movie. Man, I was not impressed.
Dr. McGillicuddy is just the way I remember him at any rate. The last time I really remember lots of fuzzy navels was a certain trip to Kingston. We were just a bunch of bored teenageers hanging around town for too long when we suddenly realized, hey, let's get out of town. We travelled 2 hours just to have lunch at a funny burger place called Licks. They sing your orders. Those of us in the back passed around the schanapps. By the time we got to Licks we couldn't order anyway. Ah, misspent youth.
Jasn went to work today, and then he came back. He came back right away. His work is broken. We napped a bit and then thought, hey, we're never home on a saturday night. so then we went out. And had schnapps aux peches. Je suis bien enivre. I have no accents aigus on this damned keyboard. No more popscicle stick though, No more clackety clack clack. These keys are squishy. Quiet. C'est un peu triste.
The good news is, we finally found swoops. But the lady called them chocloalte pringles, which grossed me out. Jason keeps laughing through his nose. IO'm a little worried about that. Il fait froid dans la cave. But not cold enough to go and get socks. All the clean laundry just got dumped on the floor out of the dryer yesterday and findin socks is going to be easy at all, all jumbled and staticy.
Okay bye.
p.s. I just remembered this:
a) Jason, when the Scissor Sisters came on, I told you to dance like you were wearing gold pants. And you did.
b) It would have been so much better had the porno not involved cottage cheese. Right?
7 comments:
Wonder how well you'll remember writing this post later.
(turns the lights down low, lays a warm blanket over the snoring Jamie [yes, can't you hear her?], and tip-toes out the room)
Blogging while drunk is more than your right; it's your responsibility. You just have to think of all the other bloggers out there who never get the opporunity to drink at all. So drink it loudly, drink it proud, and get typing!
You're a good writer in any state of consciousness! :)
-- generic alcohol-related flattering comment here --
Amy- when sober I work hard to consciously keep it out of my writing. When tired, angry, or drunk, it seeps back in and I have no control over it.
It's a little funny to find this post here today, and I could at least go in and edit it, but you know what? I think I'll just leave it as is.
don't change a thing. one thing you should never do, jay, is edit yourself. i adore the way you write, sober or otherwise.
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