Monday, January 21, 2008
cobras.
dan says i should write a book. there's really no story behind what i would write. just typing out whatever goes on in my head. but none of it makes sense. i never fully make sense. maybe35% of the time a person can digest/decipher what i'm saying. basically i just ramble. or rant. usually rant. i'm considered an irritable character. i'm not always pissed off. i'm usually just slightly aggravated. but it doesn't mean i'm mad. i'm not going to hulksmash at the drop of a pin. i just say what's on my mind even if people don't know what's going, and then i go on with my dulled out life.i think it'd be better if i just did a book on tape. just have paying customers listen to me talk to myself. or act like i'm a human that really wants your attention. it wouldn't be a book on tape then. just a tape of me being a bumbling stranger. maybe just record myself as i walk down the street. oh great, i've somehow turned into a crazy transient. i bet the batteries wouldn't even work in my tape recorder. nix this idea. i hate the sound of my voice anyway.
rewind and play back. i fuckin' sound like jeff spicoli. fuckin' valley accent that really shines through when i'm outside my sunny state.
i miss marlo.
that fruitcake was the most awesome friend to ever waste my time and money. probably the only man-type i could ever really be myself around. our fag-hag relationship lasted a good 5 years.he always called me out on the stupid shit i pulled. and i let him because he was the best. he was a great dance partner too. here's a picture of him the night we took a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom across from the organ pavilion in balboa park.
he's not dead. but i have no clue where he's gone.
someone needs to buy me the Vice Photo Book.
girlchaos at 9:16 PM