Tonight I experienced the halloween season at a party by one of Laura’s co-workers. The highlight of the evening was a large pink canoe wrapped around a tallish woman with pink hair. She was ‘paddling her pink canoe’, a hereto unheard euphemism to yours truly.
Bob Dobbs in the basement, and an old neighbor of Nate’s parents throwing another party upstairs.
Laura has rolled over and is officially uninterested now. She hates my bed, and complains every time she sleeps here. I guess that’s OK, since I don’t really like sleeping at her place either. Relationships = compromise. I hate the fact that the only bathroom in her appartment is off of her bedroom… When I sleep there, there is at least a fifty-fifty chance I’ll be awakened by her roommate at the buttcrack of dawn for the morning shower.
I don’t get along well with buttcracks. Well… I shouldn’t say that. I don’t get along well with proverbial buttcracks.
I get along fine with most other buttcracks, as long as they’re not smelly or slimey. Unless the slime is sexsweat, slimey buttcracks are not for me. This rant has deteriorated into the nonsense of a just-before-sleep-post.
off to dreamtech.