Tagged With: Friends
When I look down I just miss all the good stuff, when I look up I just trip over things
Sara rescues sea turtle eggs for a living. She doesn’t feed the hungry or give aid to adolescent prostitutes in Thailand. She just watches turtles lay eggs in places where the eggs will be harmed, then she digs the eggs up and moves them somewhere safer. Dig. Gather. Dig. Deposit. It’s no less good for … Continue reading
Inflatable Supermodel is a very good (-looking) band.
They rocked the house as you can see from this nudie shot. Later, everyone at the bar stripped down to undies and took turns covering each other with the finest gin Fairfax had to offer. So come on, music lovers. Support Inflatable Supermodel so that these poor troubadors can finally afford some fucking belts. For … Continue reading
Happy birthday, Peacock.
When I met him, he had beautiful girl hair and a guitar. He still does though. He is like twelve hundred fish, but they are rainbow trout. But he smells nicer. At the end of the fall I think he will move to New York to be with Steve. I can’t for the life of … Continue reading
Happy (early) birthday to Michele!
This is getting posted today, since I know I won’t have time tomorrow what with the participating in *actual* birthday events. Oh, and sleeping until noon. So here goes. MY FRIEND MICHELE (aka Binky the Horse, LL Cool Cat (?), Brother Tupperware, Bambam, Mama Cow Man, Muppet) You have taught me so many things over … Continue reading
This day in history
A year ago today the Sicilian dumped me on my lunch hour. We went to lunch, we argued over something stupid, we went into the King Student Union building and broke up in a conference room. I sniffled my way through the rest of the day and promised myself I wouldn’t tell anyone. “I don’t … Continue reading
worth every minute
On Thursday night, pre-Allen arrival, I was sitting in the kitchen at the Lad’s, pretending to be a cockroach. I had my index fingers pressed to the sides of my forehead and I wiggled them at the Lad’s back as he did the dishes. “So are we playing Get Out tonight?” asked the Lad. “We … Continue reading
Peacock Stringed Instruments
I want to talk more about Allen because he cannot be overstated. When he walked in and Gene said oh it must be Aaron (knowing however perfectly well that it was NOT Aaron) I heard his voice and thought oh it’s Allen isn’t it. But did not get up from the chair. This is because … Continue reading
Rocks Trees Spike
Allen is home. He is not fat. He gave me a poncho and puppet, as if he knew the secret gift secrets of my secret heart. But Jason leaves tomorrow. Every silver lining has a big, sad, looming, awful, thunderbolt-ridden cloud.
A thistle bit Kronk
The Lad’s motorcycle has a little bathrobe which he keeps chained to a post when not in use so that it cannot run away. It fits snug over the motorbike and in its bathrobe the motorbike looks like a little cartoon viking guy. It is so endearing. This bathrobe is for keeping the wet off. … Continue reading
Return of the Peacock
Allen’s home! Actually it was kind of anti-climactic. I called in sick to work this morning since it’s apparently going to be my week for stupid, destructive behavior, and when I wandered blearily out of the Lad’s room at around 10:00 he (Allen) was asleep on the couch in the living room. Apparently he showed … Continue reading