Folk music.
Fan.
Drinking glove.
Vans.
Wall street hair.
Gel.
New chucks.
Beards.
Cords.
Random party.
Carnival.
Friends of friends.
Honey whiskey.
Radiohead.
Vinyl.
Sink.
Green design.
SCAD
Can toss.
Balcony.
Warmer inside.
Chin tilt.
Piles of coats.
Oreo cake.
Dance party.
Water.
Music room.
Short walk.
Good company.
Cold rain.
Brief hugs.
Drive home.
Saturday.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
2 week rule
Evidently, the jack-holes on match have a 2 week cutoff rule.
It goes like this:
1. Contact the lady
2. Be awesome in everyway
3. Spend meaningful time with the lady
4. Make plans with the lady
5. Fire / flake out on the lady
...all in the course of two weeks.
I give up. I'm going back to missed connections.
It goes like this:
1. Contact the lady
2. Be awesome in everyway
3. Spend meaningful time with the lady
4. Make plans with the lady
5. Fire / flake out on the lady
...all in the course of two weeks.
I give up. I'm going back to missed connections.
Monday, November 10, 2008
why i love/hate/love again Church Hill
I can walk to work in 30 minutes on a beautiful sunny fall day.
Friendly workmen greet me as I walk by. Greet. Not cat call. Smiles and hellos.
After a long, boring day at work, I can walk back home again through empty streets lit by lamps. The leaves are pretty, even in the dark.
I can walk up to my front door and notice...
that my bike....
is missing.
No.
It's effing stolen.
W! T! F!
UGH!
I hate this neighborhood!
You have to chain and double lock everything down! And my friend gave me that bike for my birthday. Those effers!!! Gawd dammit I hate thieving bastards!
And then...
at 9.
A knock.
On my front door.
It's my neighbor.
He says the roofers who were working on his house saw some boys take some bikes from our porch today. The roofers chased them down in their van. One of the boys dropped a bike and the roofer brought it back. The other bike is gone.
I go across the street and see my other neighbor bringing the bike out onto their porch. I look closely at it, and holy effing ish, it's the bike my friend gave me for my birthday. I thank my neighbors. We introduce ourselves.
Now, I'm making pumpkin bread for them and for the roofers.
I'll deliver it tomorrow.
I love my neighborhood.
Friendly workmen greet me as I walk by. Greet. Not cat call. Smiles and hellos.
After a long, boring day at work, I can walk back home again through empty streets lit by lamps. The leaves are pretty, even in the dark.
I can walk up to my front door and notice...
that my bike....
is missing.
No.
It's effing stolen.
W! T! F!
UGH!
I hate this neighborhood!
You have to chain and double lock everything down! And my friend gave me that bike for my birthday. Those effers!!! Gawd dammit I hate thieving bastards!
And then...
at 9.
A knock.
On my front door.
It's my neighbor.
He says the roofers who were working on his house saw some boys take some bikes from our porch today. The roofers chased them down in their van. One of the boys dropped a bike and the roofer brought it back. The other bike is gone.
I go across the street and see my other neighbor bringing the bike out onto their porch. I look closely at it, and holy effing ish, it's the bike my friend gave me for my birthday. I thank my neighbors. We introduce ourselves.
Now, I'm making pumpkin bread for them and for the roofers.
I'll deliver it tomorrow.
I love my neighborhood.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
the plain girls
I love how cooler-than-everybody mean spirited scenesters who have no career and live at home can give people labels. Really?
Get a job. Get an apartment. Stop name-calling and judging people like you're still in middle school. Stop trying to pick up people in the same 3-bar cesspool that all your friends have been making history in.
Maybe try being nice to people for a change...even if they're not wearing the latest AmericanApparelUrbanOutfittersNeedSupplyIndieHipsterScenesterSweaterTasticCoolClothes.
Get a job. Get an apartment. Stop name-calling and judging people like you're still in middle school. Stop trying to pick up people in the same 3-bar cesspool that all your friends have been making history in.
Maybe try being nice to people for a change...even if they're not wearing the latest AmericanApparelUrbanOutfittersNeedSupplyIndieHipsterScenesterSweaterTasticCoolClothes.
Stupid betches that hum along at concerts
Shut up yo!
Nobody paid or drove 3 hours to hear your ridiculous off-key hummings that compete with the extremely talented musician and singer on stage. We get it. You know ALL of the lyrics. Eat a cookie and get over it.
If I were a ninja, I would chop your windpipe!
Nobody paid or drove 3 hours to hear your ridiculous off-key hummings that compete with the extremely talented musician and singer on stage. We get it. You know ALL of the lyrics. Eat a cookie and get over it.
If I were a ninja, I would chop your windpipe!
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