and people think me a nut when i go ga-ga as soon as spike enters a scene on buffy the vampire slayer. is it my fault that he's hotter than indian food?? pffft. exactly.
i have a feeling next to go will be ani difranco's double-live cd "living in clip". what can i say? gene's got it and a friend's got a cd-burner. o great, this is the part where i get arrested, right?
i had to sell cd's again because the cash is getting more than tight. bye bye adam sandler's last 2 cd's. we hardly knew ye. bye bye barbra streisand. i can't go back to broadway with you no more. bye bye swans. it's not your fault double-cd's bring in more money. bye bye the very first tori amos cd i ever bought - you were a trusty ep and you sure had your glory days but i got your tracks on a bootleg as well so. be well.
if anyone out there have the lyrics for macy gray's song "i try" and can e-mail them to me i would be most happy, because i rarely get e-mail anymore and because i don't know the right lyrics so i sing something completely wrong every time which makes gene cringe. (that and hiss "wrong key!!!") thank you. :)
just paint one of those horrid lines here around my neck, thank you, and transplant me a new body. this one is broken. i think it's really supposed to belong to a 90-year old woman instead. something went wrong at birth, a mix-up, divine malpractice, something. 5 hrs of bad ass, spastic dancing in a club while heavily intoxicated and giggling should make you feel like you just worked out, i know, and i always mess up my neck by headbanging, but this?
i've got swollen knee-caps (long story involving several incidents of me tripping and smashing them against cement and gravel and last week the unfortunate severe twisting of the leg on the bus thing.. ow.) lead me to walk disjointedly like a string-puppet. when i walk in stairs they creek and snap and crack and pop and whine the way rubber-bands do when stretched too hard. when i woke up and stood up and tried to walk i actually HOBBLED.
imagine my joy at having to walk for half an hour on rickity railroad tracks to get home (crashed at jessica's) and catch my teacher to come and work. the fact that he didn't even show up and i had to walk upstairs to call for him hardly helped. the fact that he drives a kind of pickup truck where you have to climb into the seat is snarl worthy. i don't know what i would have done if the elevator had been out of order. blah.
still. last night was kick ass bad ass fun. me and gene and jessica decided to go to a local club for the first time and check things out. usually they play hip-hop and such but recently they started something called Insomnia, a night a week open to gays and lesbians especially, but anybody can come. because we're such flip-flopping liberals (;) we decided to give it a shot as it sounded like it was pretty fun last time they held it and odds were high they'd actually play music we wouldn't mind shaking asses to.
it was so much fun! 5 hours of continuous booty-shaking, peeking at pretty girls and boys of various orientations while getting to gobble on jack daniel's and coke as the dj pumped out track after track was fabulous! (i'm not even going to tell you my reaction when they played a remix of ABBA's "Dancing Queen".) they even had a tiny 'cage' where people jumped in to fromp around and slut danced. hilarious! (if we ever come back, i swear i'll get gene to climb into it. you wouldn't believe his moves. *laugh* no, i mean that. :)
so. a good time was had by all, especially this spastic girl who got just a few drinks or so more drunk than she really should have but she wasn't the one paying so who needs to care? certainly not her. of course, perfection was reached as the very last track played before closing came to be BT's "Blue Skies" with vocals by... tori amos. bliss!
but as i was saying. a body transplant would be nice. c-cup, thanks, and if it's not too much to ask for, could you give me normal feet as well? i always wondered how it would feel to wear a size below "private yacht" size. thank you. ow.