Tuesday, July 31, 2007


gemath y: nicole richie is confirmed pregnant
whiite thrash: yup.
whiite thrash: think she'll "miscarry"
gemath y: haha
gemath y: you are awful
gemath y: but I sure hope so

Monday, July 30, 2007

wfi: a computer in the lounge in the mexican hotel.


my parents are in mexico - oaxaca to be exact - right now and i am house sitting for them.
today i received these two emails. this is exactly as they came - with the exception of me removing stuff that is nonsensical to outsiders. ...not that this is so "sensical". but here they are, in all their caps locked glory.


this one is from my dad,

I COULD PICK UP SPANISH IF I HAD SOME MORE TIME. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A CHINAMEN BABBLING AWAY IN SPANISH, ITS REALLY ODD?
SO MY BACK IS KILLING ME, AND WE HAVE TOLEAVE FOR THE AIRPORT AT 5:00 IN THE MORNING, LOOK OUT PEOPLE I WILL BE FOUL. BY THE WAY DO NOT GIVE uncle John your e-mail, he will flood you with rubbish and you will get pissed off.
that's all babe, see you in a few days, pick up all the beer cans and roches,we will inspect the house when we get back. adios sass, DAD


chinamen???

and from mom,

HEY SASHAPOO!..WE ARE ON OUR WAY TO THE VILLAGES IN 15 MIN W/ OUR TOUR GUIDE JUAN RUIZ...I JUST DIDSOMETHING STUPID AND DRANK A GULP OF AGUA WHICH WAS NOT BOTTLED AT BREAKFAST...THE WAITER GOOFED AND I AM JUST PRAYING THAT I DON'T GET SICK..I HAVE BEEN SO DILIGENT ABOUT FOOD HERE!!! I KNOW THIS WILL LURK IN MY BRAIN...HOPE THAT IT DOESN'T MAKE ITS WAY TO MY ESTOMAGO!!!!...WE JUST MET A BMW DEALER FROM MEXICO CITY WHO HAS A WIFE NAMED MERCEDES!!! THAT'S THE TRUTH AND HE CALLS HER BEEMER!!!...WHEN WE RETURN I WILL CALL U WHEN WE GET OFF THE PLANE PROVIDING MY CELL WORKS...I WILL SEE IF I CAN CHARGE IT HERE...AS 4 AMY...WHAT DOES SHE HEAR FROM JORDAN??? HAVE HER TELL HIM TO E MAIL ME BECAUSE THAT IS SOMETHING WE DO EASILY IN THE LOUNGE AREA AT OUR HOTEL...WILL CHECK IN W/ YOU LATER TODAY..THIS MAY BE MORE EFFICIENT THAN THE PHONE! XOX

U? 4?? estomogo ESTOMOGO??

jesus christ.


(image courtesy of google search: "caps lock", but only after a google search of "old people not understanding how a keyboard works" yielded no results...)

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Shout out to my Grady lady/I don't care that you are a victim of a crime, what are you going to do for me?

Yo Colleen from work,

I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I just feel awful for you and your loss. It really sucks. When you walked into the back room in a panic that your purse was missing, I knew it wasn't in the salon and that no one at work took it. I just knew it. I knew you had to have left it somewhere. I am really glad you listened to my suggestion of going back to Au Bon Pain. And even though you did actually leave it outside on the patio and someone took it into the women's bathroom and stole your credit card, iphone, $300 in cash and left it in the trash only to be found later by the cleaning crew, I don't think there's anything further we can do right now. You're safe. I'm safe. There weren't any stillborns cozying up to your purse in the dumpster. There's nothing for us to really worry about anymore. Except for my legs. That's right, my hairy legs.

Yeah, I am really glad to help you call to cancel your card and phone service and talk to the police. And I always enjoy being the calm and collected one in a crisis. Your thank yous are such an ego boost. I also really enjoy being right, so to find that your epitome of perfection vintage purse that I am so jealous of, albeit raped of your finer things, was actually still at ABP is kind of like a high five to my heart. And I really really like you cause you're awesome and a babe and I am glad that the only things that were stolen are replaceable. The purse itself is safe. And that's all I care about. Besides, you are a magnet for money and your iphone complete with babelicious photo of myself, although precious and loved by you and me both equally, is just a few weeks away from being able to be purchased again. You know, don't worry about it. You can take a picture of me with a new phone anytime. As tragic as tonight may seem for you, you are so blessed and rich in a lot of ways. Plus, I am probably going to buy your couch in which case, you'll be $75 wealthier.

But back to me. And the legs. The ones I was was waxing when you burst into the back room with that teary panic look you wore for the next two hours. I only got one and a half waxed. Now I gotta walk around with half a leg looking like Lohan's crotch and the other half looking like Brit's weave. I don't have time to go to the salon tomorrow, and Thursday I am working from sun up and going out until sun down. And by sun down, I mean early Friday morning. And by plans I mean working on making out with an Irish boy. So let's all be glad we're not talking about a half waxed upper lip or anything because those already slim chances would be looking Nicole Richie slim about now.

In conclusion Colleen, you owe me. I know you're making me and Elin dinner at your house on Friday, but you offered way long ago and I gave you twenty five bucks to get home, so we are not even right now. Don't think you don't owe me. And now that we're talking about it, I need my underarms done too...

Coughwax these legscough,
Meghan.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

THE WORST FUCKING IDEA PLAY


twenty hours ago, attending someone's contemporary dance recital sounded like the worst fucking idea. because that shit is boring and i am only in LA for two nights. and yet twelve hours ago, as i sat disturbed and bewildered in the back of what can only be described as a makeshift-bunker-sorry-excuse-for-a-theater theater, contemporary dance was looking pretty effing good...

basically, you don't know now nor will you ever understand what exactly it is that i have just been through. you don't. i can't even put it into words to explain it to you. but i sure as hell am going to try.

thanks in part to a delayed birthday present from the folks (and a loan from wells fargo!) i was able to spend the weekend in LA with my friend Christopher. i am still in LA right now, actually. and instead of sleeping at 8 am, i am writing this down because it is just that important that i get it out of my system.

okay so, christopher and i have another friend here, kathryn, who invited us to go see her friend's dance recital saturday night, we obviously said no to that, and instead went to see a play featuring one of chris's friends from high school. now this friend, liz, chris has not seen in about four years, so it was to be an exciting night (we all went to high school together actually, but i wasn't friends with her). did i mention she and chris were theater kids? they were. that's important to know.

oh, PS, liz promised lied through her teeth to chris that it would be hilarious and awesome. that girl's promises are WORTHLESS.

so what is the play called? oh, it's called, "ubu the shit".

no. wait. what?

yeah, you read that right. the play was called "ubu the shit". I KNOW. RED FLAG.*


okay, forget the fact that chris and i rushed there, forget the fact that we each ate an entire sandwich in about 10 seconds because we went out to dinner and didn't even check the time, forget the fact that we valeted the car at the entrance cuz we just could not be late, forget the fact that it was fifteen bucks a piece for a ticket and forget the fact that the set was constructed out of butcher paper, masking tape and one spray painted toilet. forget it. because it doesn't matter. it doesn't fucking matter.

remember the movie "she's all that"? when laney takes zack to the performance theater thing and it was weird and they were all in spandex birthing themselves or something? that little performance deserves no less than eight thousand tony awards.

i honestly don't even know where to start with this thing. oh wait, how about here: the main character has a giant penis dangling between his legs the entire show. is that a good starting point? it was about a foot long, green, and bumpy. he strokes it, fucks his dinner with it, rapes people with it (who are puking in the toilet at the same time), slaps his wife with it, and puts it in various mouths. and i believe this all happened in the first three scenes. how many scenes were there? oh, just twenty. WTFWTFWTF.

this production was andy dick (the most worthless, vulgar, disgusting and pathetic person on the planet) meets multiplicity (you know, that michael keaton movie? but imagine it with andy dick) meets the toilet in the movie "trainspotting" (absolutely grotesque) meets the holocaust (the worst thing to happen to people by other people ever). does that explain it well enough? maybe.

but in all honesty, no, it doesn't.

every possibly offensive word in the english language was used. and i don't just mean the boring four letter ones. i meant every single racial and derogatory slur and none of it was needed and none of it stood for anything. they just thought it was cool, or edgy, or funny. and it wasn't any of those things! and every single line in the play was YELLED AT YOU, there was no speaking, saying, reciting or ACTING WHATSOEVER involved!

forget the fact that i couldn't even follow the "story line".

right about the time they started playing the theme song to mortal kombat (which i believe came after the scene where they played the x-files theme song - god i wish i was making this up) i turned to chris and said, "i'd rather be hanging out with mischa barton right now". and i was dead serious. MORTAL KOMBAT. MISCHA BARTON.

i also told him that i don't care what he does with his life as long as he does not join that acting troupe. if chris were to have surgery to look like carrot-top, started dating janice dickinson and developed an addiction to opiates it would be a better idea.

the only funny parts of the entire two hour train wreck were when the cast members would give up. on stage. during scene. one guy took off his mask and started yelling at another guy about how he was bad at acting like a horse, and then shortly after that some girl looked out into the audience empty rows of seats DURING HER MONOLOGUE and said, "no one is even listening" and walked off the stage and out of the door. not backstage. not behind a curtain. OUT OF THE FRONT DOOR. so they just dimmed the lights, and started up another scene.

now the whole time, christopher is sitting there wondering what the fuck he is going to say to liz after the show. i don't care if you're merryl fucking streep, you cannot act your way out of this. there will be no, "you were terrific!" there will be no "i loved it!" there will be no "great job!" there wont even be an "it was very interesting" because it wasn't fucking interesting!!! there will only be, "sasha we have to go NOW", during the 19th scene, while liz was hidden behind a sheet making shadow puppets and couldn't see us head for the exit.

we could not drive fast enough. we could not go far enough. we could not cleanse ourselves enough from the ugly bile we had just soaked up.

it would have been more mentally stimulating to puke on a rock and watch it bake in the hot arizona sun. for ten years.

i tried to make up a list of all the things i would rather do than sit through that again. but as the list was nearing 893,982 pages i figured that a simple summary would suffice: I WOULD RATHER DIE.

in fact it wasn't until after i had put some liquor into my body that i was comfortable being around chris again. you know how sometimes you just experience something so awful and horrific that it's embarrassing to be with the person you experienced it with? eye contact was out of the question.

feel free to google "ubu the shit". their myspace page will come up. but it won't get the point across. and i will not link to it because it's just too much. too much.

and don't for one second think i didn't take pictures and record video, because i most certainly did. but they will have to wait until i get home they will never see the light of day because i don't want to be held responsible for you destroying your life. i can't deal with that fucked up shit right now ever again.

UPDATE: all the images are courtesy of kevin over at kevinbabbles.blogspot, who saw the play after he heard my vicious rant in person. he has a review up to check out.


*christopher (pictured at right, doing his "sexaaay fayce!") did, during the "production", inform me that this apparently was a show based on an actual 19th century french play called "ubu roi" which apparently is really good and really important in the theater world because it was so raw and edgy and out there when it debuted, but this rendition was an absolute massacre. sheesh.

Friday, July 20, 2007

roommate kirsten = female of the universe

ever since roommate kirsten changed her myspace profile location to read "lebanon" instead of the more accurate "scottsdale" she has been quite the popular little arab!!!

kirsten: check out this message i got from egypt

kirsten:
Hi,

Greetings from the land of the Pharos – EGYPT

We will be organizing an International and Very Special Event


Female of the Universe Competition 2008

During the Period of June 17th – 26th, 2008 in

Sharm El Sheikh - Egypt

The Competition will include the participation of (80) Females from different countries

Participation is opened – NOT limited to one from each country


It’s Not a BEAUTY Competition – It’s Not a MODELING Competition

It’s a MIXTURE of both – we need to choose a

FEMALE OF THE UNIVERSE 2008


For Details: www.femaleuniverse.net

PARTICIPATION IS FREE


kirsten: i would like to be female of the universe!
whiitethrash: oh
whiitethrash: its beauty AND modeling.
whiitethrash: not one or the other.
kirsten: ahahaha
whiitethrash: phew.
whiitethrash: you didnt stand a chance before.
whiitethrash: but now
whiitethrash: now you do!
kirsten: i know!
kirsten: what an awesome title
kirsten: female of the universe
whiitethrash: i feel like
kirsten: if i had that
whiitethrash: muslim countries dont have those kinds of competitions.
kirsten: i would put it on everything
kirsten: ahaha
whiitethrash: clearly its a trick
kirsten: i know right
whiitethrash: to get a bunch of women in a room
whiitethrash: and stone them to death.
whiitethrash: WORST FUCKING IDEA.
whiitethrash: DONT DO IT.



if you're interested though, you can get more information here: http://www.myspace.com/life_network_agency . and if that URL doesn't seem like a legit corporation, i don't know what does. happy siiiiigh.

He called.

To cancel. But in a very cute and nice way. I guess.



I should move to Zanzibar. No, he should.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Gem asks for help 2: electric boogaloo

gemath y: I can't get the code you typed out in our convo
gemath y: to not make a url
gemath y: I've tried spaces and . in random spots
gemath y: and it doesn't work
whiitethrash: its supposed to make a url
gemath y: but it doesn't make sense if it is a url
gemath y: because it's not one
gemath y: it doesn't link to anything
gemath y: the [code] words you want to show up
gemath y: that part
gemath y: it needs to be written code but not a link
gemath y: FIX
gemath y: NOW
gemath y: NOW NOW NOW NOW
gemath y: NOW
gemath y: NOW
gemath y: NOW
gemath y: NOW
gemath y: where the FUCK are you
whiitethrash: sorry
whiitethrash: i was peeing
gemath y: DON'T. DO. THAT.
whiitethrash: oh
whiitethrash: where i put URL
whiitethrash: you put the url to whatever you want the link to go to
gemath y: oh. my. god.
gemath y: wtf
whiitethrash: thewordsyouwanttoshowup = the words that take you to the link
whiitethrash: duh.
gemath y: what planet are you on?
gemath y: you haven't been on the same page all day
gemath y: you can't even follow along
whiitethrash: what do you want.
whiitethrash: ahaha
gemath y: I want you to learn how to read
gemath y: gemath y: I can't get the code you typed out in our convo
gemath y: to not make a url
whiitethrash: i want you to learn HTML by yourself.
gemath y: gemath y: I can't get the code you typed out in our convo
gemath y: to not make a url
gemath y: NOT NOT
whiitethrash: i know
whiitethrash: but why would you not want it to
gemath y: BECAUSE IT'S NOT A FUCKING LINK TO ANYTHING
gemath y: IT'S YOU TELLING ME HOW TO WRITE CODE
gemath y: AND IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE
whiitethrash: OH MY GOD
gemath y: IF IT IS A URL TO NOWHERE
gemath y: AND NOT WRITTEN CODE
whiitethrash: ARE YOU POSTING IT
whiitethrash: IS THAT WHY
gemath y: YES JESUS CHRIST
whiitethrash: SORRY THAT YOU DIDNT TELL ME WHAT IT WAS FOR
gemath y: FOLLOW THE FUCK ALONG
whiitethrash: I HATE YOU
whiitethrash: I HATE YOU ALWAYS AND FOREVER
whiitethrash: WELL TAKE OUT THE WORDSYOUWANT...
whiitethrash: ANDJUSTCLOSEIT
whiitethrash:
gemath y: gemath y: I can't get the code you typed out in our convo
gemath y: to not make a url
gemath y: that's the part that says I was trying to post our convo
gemath y: that part
gemath y: and then the second half of that tells you what I was trying to do
whiitethrash: i thought you messed up your english
gemath y: you need to fucking read sasha
whiitethrash: and you meant
whiitethrash: something else
whiitethrash: gem stop
gemath y: no
whiitethrash: you're being so aggressive.
gemath y: you messed up your english
gemath y: well, imagine what it's like to talk to yourself sasha.
gemath y: imagine it
whiitethrash: hahahaha
gemath y: and try not to jump out the window while you're doing it.
gemath y: also, you still haven't told me how to fix it
gemath y: and I don't want to sit around for 10 minutes while you get around to answering me either
whiitethrash: well
whiitethrash: figure it out
whiitethrash: more spaces
whiitethrash: or take out the first
whiitethrash: <
whiitethrash: or just do
gemath y: gemath y: I've tried spaces and . in random spots
gemath y: and it doesn't work
whiitethrash: [wrote the same damn code again]
gemath y: and that shows up as nothing
whiitethrash: then do
whiitethrash: [wrote more code that doesn't help]
whiitethrash: but dont close it
gemath y: I fixed it all on my own
gemath y: without your help
whiitethrash: nice.
gemath y: none of your suggestions worked
whiitethrash: fine.
gemath y: now I am going to start to breathe
whiitethrash: no
whiitethrash: dont breathe.
whiitethrash: ever again
whiitethrash: pls.
gemath y: you just want the blog all to yourself
gemath y: still, it won't post
gemath y: it won't post sasha
whiitethrash: i dont care.
gemath y: it won't post
gemath y: you don't care?
whiitethrash: whiitethrash: i dont care.
gemath y: oh
gemath y: ok
gemath y: I hope you get shoved in an oven then
whiitethrash: hhahaha
gemath y: so the post I actually wrote
gemath y: it's not very funny is it?
whiitethrash: i liked it
gemath y: but it's a good wfi
whiitethrash: yes
whiitethrash: and thats what its all about
gemath y: but do you like it because you want me to be the less funny one?
whiitethrash: meghan
whiitethrash: i have always been
whiitethrash: the less funny one

Gem asks for help.

gemath y: and now I can't right click without highlighting the whole paragraph
gemath y: wtf
gemath y: I HATE THIS BLOG
whiitethrash: [wrote an example of proper code]
gemath y: I KNOW
gemath y: I FUCKING KNOW
whiitethrash: OKAY
whiitethrash: OKAY
gemath y: I AM TRYING THAT
gemath y: OKAY
gemath y: YOU AREN'T PAYING ATTENTION
gemath y: HOW CAN WE BLOG WHEN YOU DON'T EVEN LISTEN TO ME?!?!?
whiitethrash: I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU NEED
whiitethrash: OMG
whiitethrash: OMGOMG
whiitethrash: SHOULD WE BLOG THIS?
gemath y: NO!
gemath y: THAT IS MY IDEA
gemath y: YOU SHOULDN'T DO A DAMN THING MORE
gemath y: BLOG TAKER-OVER
gemath y: ER
whiitethrash: hahaha
whiitethrash: I ONLY DO THE BLOG TO GET YOU TO WANT TO TALK TO ME.
gemath y: oh jesus christ
gemath y: don't start your poor me jew bs
whiitethrash: hahaha
whiitethrash: you better blog this whoooole thing.
whiitethrash: so everyone can see how much better you are than i am.
gemath y: stop telling me what to blog you dough
gemath y: and I am editing that
gemath y: to say douche
gemath y: ok?
gemath y: got it?
whiitethrash: ahahaha
whiitethrash: no please
whiitethrash: call me dough.
gemath y: you and katherine heigl
gemath y: doughy
whiitethrash: <33333
whiitethrash: loves.
gemath y: so, I've called you sasha on the blog
gemath y: in our convos
gemath y: should I refer to myself as Meghan or gem?
whiitethrash: doesnt matter.
whiitethrash: its not hard to sort it out.
whiitethrash: dont forget to tag it
gemath y: HOW DOES THAT ANSWER MY QUESTION!?!?!?!!?
gemath y: should I call myself meghan or gem
gemath y: jesus christ
whiitethrash: hahaha
whiitethrash: meghan.
gemath y: ok
gemath y: thank you
whiitethrash: you're welcomish.
gemath y: :rolleyes:

2 lame 2 b so long. sry.

So, I broke it off with that sobriety thing I was on. Although I've taken to shirley temples when out, I did get drrrrrrrunbk on monday night. And only good things came out of it, so I'll be drinking again soon. for sure. like for sure for sure.

I wanted to see some djs I read about in the paper Monday night, so I recruited Emily as my date with the night. She has not only made me dinner 3 times and drives me all over the place, but the night before I smoked all her weed and ate her pot cookies, so it was only fair for me to take her out. On our first beer, I recognized a guy at the bar who seemed to be in charge at the Certified Bananas show the previous Friday. Emily said, "We'll be talking to him tonight." So, while I was buying round 2, she stopped him to chat. When I came over he said he remembered me from the friday before and complimented me on my dancing. Em and I are in agreement that it is a compliment of the highest order. End result: He invites us to future dance parties and gives us his contact info. This is followed by more beer.

Then, we meet an Irish guy. Giggle, swoon. Fight about Michael Moore and Pitchfork. I buy us all another beer. Bar closes and we go to Store24. End result: I get his number.

So, we have a great night. We get Sunchips and vitamin water and drive home (yikes). But the non-sober driving is not even the WFI. Talking about the boys we met brought us back to Old Guy. Emma pumped me up into calling him. At 3am. Drunk.

WFI? I left a message. It went a little like this:

Hey it's me. Meghan. I know you shut your phone off at night. And you're probably sleeping. And maybe even if you weren't and your phone was on and you were up or even if you woke up I don't think you'd even answer. But I'm calling cause I was talking about you with Em and I miss you and I don't think I was very nice to you the last time I saw you and I'm sorry. I want to apologize for that. And you can call me back. I am not working tomorrow. And if you don't call me back, I'll call you again anyway. So, just make it easier and call me. But I'll call you anyway if you can't or forget or something. So call me only if you want to. Okbye.


Ayeeeaeeeeie.

But he called back. And left a good message I returned the call and he was sweet. And we have kindof plans tomorrow morning. Before he moves away forever.

age progression.

whiitethrash: winona ryder cannot turn 40.
whiitethrash: she needs to be perpetually 26.
whiitethrash: even though she's 35.
gemath y: uh ya
whiitethrash: you agree??
gemath y: I guess
whiitethrash: like, my world fell apart for a couple hours the day drew barrymore turned 30.
gemath y: I understand that one

the response. yeah. singular.


you can't tell in this little image...but he is wearing a pinky ring. and that's a pretty big red flag.*

anyway, while scouring various STRICTLY PLATONIC sections and continuing to waste my entire summer inside of my bedroom in tucson while watching judge judy, i did discover these two charming ads. unfortunately i don't remember which cities they're from...

first there's the search for the heavyset hilarious black man:

i would absolutely die to read her responses.

and then this woman. i can't imagine why she doesn't have any friends.

PS THERE IS A GUN RACK BEHIND YOU. AND IT IS FULL OF GUNS. FULL. OF. GUNS.


ANYWAY. in IRL news i get my second of three gardasil shots today. because cervical cancer and herpes are both pretty bad ideas. but gem wouldn't know anything about the latter, would you Gem?!?!!!


*(if you're wondering about the 2nd response i received, i decided to respond to his inquiry and let him know the real situation, via an email that read a little like this: "oh this was a joke ad and your response wasn't very funny. want to try again?" and for some reason he never wrote back....)

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

craigslist bff post!





i put that up this morning and somehow, and this makes me feel really insecure even though the post was a total joke (...OR WAS IT?!!! ), i only received two (2! 2 22 2 2 2 2 222 2 222!!!) responses!!!


AND ONE IS FROM A JERSEY GUIDO WHO ISN'T EVEN FROM JERSEY - HE'S FROM SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. and the other one said he's only "reasonably" attractive. which i guess is what i asked for, but come on!!!

i'll post the responses in a couple days, just in case i gather more. i think i'm going to e-mail the second guy back. just so he doesn't feel like a total reject (...or maybe so i don't???!!!!). maybe we will end up getting married??!11!! OMGZ!!

but srsly...

Monday, July 16, 2007

Stoned

i have decided to increase my illegal narcotic intake to make up for gem's sobriety. that might be a worst fucking idea in and of itself. but it sounds dreamy.


i cannot take credit for this idea, all the credit goes out to my stoner friend sarah, but i will say that my reaction to it went something like this:

"wtf? that's so dumb. no one is ever going to pay for that. except wait. that sounds kind of good. i would totally pay for one of those. i'd pay for two. do they come in big gulp sizes?"

that reaction was completely non verbal by the way. 100% facial expression. and it also lasted less than one second.


the idea?

water slushies. no flavor. no fruit. just fine ice.



i back it up completely. i even encouraged sarah to purchase a bicycle and a little freezer cart to hook on to the back. she can sell them around campus. COLLEGE DROPOUT MY ASS.


then the next night emily suggested something like, strawberry flavored rum. i told her it exists under the name "cough syrup". and that it's a bad idea.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Sober

I've been drinking a lot less in the past few weeks. Maybe not less frequently, but less in quantity. Now, I have my own reasons, sure. But I also realized...

(ooh what did I realize!)

....








(wait for it)






.....


I still have the same fun? If you call not making out with anyone fun, of course. And I have to say, I really do actually.

What I'm trying to say is, I am having way fewer worst fucking ideas. Or perhaps my emerging eccentricities are camouflaging what used to be WFIs. IDK! Regardless, I have nothing to contribute. I resign myself temporarily until I enter a new phase. Hopefully a new phase under the influence!