If i comb all of my hair forward and down over my ears i look like some misbegotten british pop star from a third of a century ago! Or slightly less! Times like this, i wish i had a webcam….
by krisis
Personal
Just made a massive holiday-season update to my Amazon Wish-List. I’m usually such a dip-shit when i shop for new-yet-old music that i need a list like this *somewhere*, and keeping it in a place where people can help me cross items off is as good as anywhere else.
I was planning on having a wild cd shopping spree today, but it was much too cold after work and i just ran to get to the subway concourse. I intended to buy Joan Osborne’s Righteous Love, the new U2 disc, Elliott Smith’s Figure 8, the two most recent Ben Folds Five discs, David Byrne’s Feelings, and the live Portishead album. I think i might be in the manic phase of manic-depression. It runs in my family. Or, maybe i just need cheering up. Either way, i shouldn’t have my own MAC card.
I just got home from the coffee shop and started to wash my hands when the drippy pipe (yes, still from when the sink fell) finally just got too much on my nerves. I grabbed a tube of caulk (don’t ask where i found it, i dunno), ripped it open with my teeth, and slathered the entire pipe a centimeter thick with caulk using my bare hands. If it still drips after that, i’ll just put a fucking bucket under it.
Maybe i’m just supposed to be doing more drugs (which is not meant to imply that i’m doing any right now). I mean, that seems to work for most bored people i know; it’s like taking a little vacation from yourself once a week. Of course, drugs cost money and respect and all that jazz. Plus, you’ve got to learn all the lingo. (Whoa, freaky, a friend of mine who is obviously a dealer just called and knocked me off of the internet. Message from god, or just too many low-life friends?). Ok, that was all a bit too surreal. We’re gonna pretend none of that happened and go to the Coffee Shop, were plain ol’ caffine is the drug of choose. Mmmm, expresso.