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raybearMy feelings on this weekend can best be expressed in the form of a monologue from the made-for-tv movie "Portrait of a Stripper", starring Lesley Ann Warren.
On Friday night I made out with three different people in the DJ booth and I think every instance ended in me quickly pulling away and saying "I need to cue the next song!!" I got burned two months ago from an incident of heavy making out that ended in my accidentally playing Sean Paul's Gimme the Light in the middle of another track, so now I'm paranoid. I'm also amused at how the lighting guy who's also in the booth seems extremely confused with sexual proclivities since we engage in fag-speak. He's not the first. Oh, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vfc came which thrilled me so I made sure to play her song: Xtina's Drrrty.
I can't really remember much of Saturday. Oh yeah. This strange house party to raise money for Howard Dean. (I gave spinach artichoke dip instead of cash, because I'm generally against donating money to politicians, even when I like them -- I'll only give time.) I snuck out early and went home to nap. then woke up, applied eyeliner, tight jeans, black boots and t-shirt, leather cuffs, then went to go see A Mighty Wind. Which was funny. The movie and my outift for the movie. But afterwards I letherownsociety pick me up for a leather play party which ended up being sort of a bust as a play event, but successful as an evening of chatting with a small group of cool people dressed very hotly.
Yesterday was beautiful and sunny so we walked instead of drove to the corner store and later I helped Damon save big money at Menard's. I think I ate dinner and watched half of a movie and washed some dishes. I know I went to the grocery store late at night and felt bad for the cashiers, even after one of them took a dig on me for asking her to correct the non-discounted items that I purchased soley because they were discounted. I know it only added up to five dollars, but I'm running on empty right now so five dollars actually means something.
Speaking of money....never mind, I don't want to talk about it at all. One panic attack on the train is enough for one Monday.
Yesterday in the car, Damon said "oh, I read this interview with Nelly and he explained what pimp juice is." What? It's a drink? Featuring malibu rum? That's not what my pimp juice is. This just reaffirms my belief that Nelly is wicked lame.
It's time to eat condensed clam chowder soup filled with broken saltines. Not as good as that sandwich in my dream this morning, but tasty nonetheless.
Also, wha' happened?!?
On Friday night I made out with three different people in the DJ booth and I think every instance ended in me quickly pulling away and saying "I need to cue the next song!!" I got burned two months ago from an incident of heavy making out that ended in my accidentally playing Sean Paul's Gimme the Light in the middle of another track, so now I'm paranoid. I'm also amused at how the lighting guy who's also in the booth seems extremely confused with sexual proclivities since we engage in fag-speak. He's not the first. Oh, and
vfc came which thrilled me so I made sure to play her song: Xtina's Drrrty.I can't really remember much of Saturday. Oh yeah. This strange house party to raise money for Howard Dean. (I gave spinach artichoke dip instead of cash, because I'm generally against donating money to politicians, even when I like them -- I'll only give time.) I snuck out early and went home to nap. then woke up, applied eyeliner, tight jeans, black boots and t-shirt, leather cuffs, then went to go see A Mighty Wind. Which was funny. The movie and my outift for the movie. But afterwards I let
herownsociety pick me up for a leather play party which ended up being sort of a bust as a play event, but successful as an evening of chatting with a small group of cool people dressed very hotly.Yesterday was beautiful and sunny so we walked instead of drove to the corner store and later I helped Damon save big money at Menard's. I think I ate dinner and watched half of a movie and washed some dishes. I know I went to the grocery store late at night and felt bad for the cashiers, even after one of them took a dig on me for asking her to correct the non-discounted items that I purchased soley because they were discounted. I know it only added up to five dollars, but I'm running on empty right now so five dollars actually means something.
Speaking of money....never mind, I don't want to talk about it at all. One panic attack on the train is enough for one Monday.
Yesterday in the car, Damon said "oh, I read this interview with Nelly and he explained what pimp juice is." What? It's a drink? Featuring malibu rum? That's not what my pimp juice is. This just reaffirms my belief that Nelly is wicked lame.
It's time to eat condensed clam chowder soup filled with broken saltines. Not as good as that sandwich in my dream this morning, but tasty nonetheless.
Also, wha' happened?!?
