"and there's my dad, in the same dress."

5:31 p.m. x 2003-11-10

tonight's adventures somehow led us to paul's bedroom, where a moving exchange was made as we draped on the bed and clare oogled shakira:

paco: did you ever think, when we met, and you made fun of my weeze, that you'd be lying on my legs like this?
myself: ...that was the plan, dumbass.

we ate cookies and looked at symbols of his dutch haritage (the dress!) and i saw a lovely picture of him with ambiguous manbreasts. *le sigh* - such is the life for someone who incessantly talks about cats and the oleson twins.

i love my friends. they're all insane. they belly dance, they wear my clothes, they have sexy grandparents, and thanks to the convinient appalachian setting, many of them can be linked together through marriage and random bouts of childbirth. craaaazy pennsylvania dutch FREAKS.

for the past week or so i've been plagued by what can only be defined as duck calls for the emotionally underdeveloped. instead of a "good morning", "hello", or even "hey" - i'm usually bombarded by an eerie, wretching yelp from the throats of close friends.

craaaaaazy friends.

alright, now - what is up with this: MY CAT SNORES. LOUD. and last night he slept in my room, disturbing my two suitable hours of sleep i managed to salvage. and THEN what does he do? HE BIT ME. in my sleep. and i rolled off the bed and nearly crushed the hairy sucker. i love my cat, but not when it does this sort of thing when i'm not a properly functioning unit.

which i'm not now, either. and WHY am i writing in here when i can barely keep my eyes opened?!

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)

anybody can be just like me, obviously.
not too many can be like you, fortunately.
KL 02-11