da kraziest sekuritie kamz

and he was.

around. more like latched on like a six year old who gets fucking impatient at the grocery store and just becomes an ankleweight

anyway though everything is turning out for the best.

I am sure you don’t want to talk about your sexploits unless anything positive has happened but is all still completely quiet on the western front?

moving on I am opting out of “doing” halloween this year. in favour of memorizing monologues and shit. and whatever else because you know Hershey’s company only invented halloween in 1954. fuck.

remember this: we live to share. everyone is special that’s for sure but some of us are more talented or prettier (if Juliette were here she’d talk about how our cultural “beauty” is a modern construct dating back to Romanticism and if Ruth’s roommate were here she would call me out on over-using “construct” as a noun) and it’s a competetive world it feels like. I guess what’s so exhilarating is being able to even compete. I’m not just talking about the BA program I’m talking about how it seems like winning people’s friendship has become a quest and winning their respect an even more exciting saga. Progress waits for nobody! These are the times we are in. Living into your 60s isn’t impressive anymore, now we actually have to BE something. That’s why a college degree has gotten so much more “important”: people aren’t dying fast enough and there’s a mighty contest on to try and continuously salvage our country from falling into the collective planetary rubbish bin.

did you get laid or what?

I have been absent from crococlass for a while now. Sorry! I’m here fair and square. I think I left my phone in nick’s car. I hope I left it there anyway! If I lost that goshdarn thing I am s.o.l. as Kenneth Blumenfeld would say in his schmaltzy kinda voice. Bryant Lake Bowl I am hoping second-most. Any other place is pretty much a lost cause. Aside from in my house, but I looked everywhere and can’t find it, which is what prompted this investigation. Oh no!

I want to make friends with the moon so when I go out at night I have plenty of light and can always see the sidewalk and make my way safely home. with no robbers. or barons.

I’ll feed you smiles, lover. I’ll shove my warmth down your rough grey throat and flush those snarky remarks clean from your perfectly rounded fingertips. You’ll forget to water the cat and it too will know the criminal passion with which I live my days to touch any of you at all. I am breathing the bathwater for you. I am singing the future of our bedsheets. I am crying your piss. There is an ember on the bottom of my foot for you. There is a hummingbird in my cock. The iceburgs are climbing their posts awaiting the evening you forget your morals and drip your tounge into my basin. My pen ran dry and I filled it with the softest hairs from your stomach. What other reason have we been made but to play eachother? In which way could I possibly feel more winter of this life? Spring my skin dry. Run my pit and slope. Flank my collar bone with your indifference. My paint is chipping for you. My ass is sore of the philosophy upon which you smirk. There is a clean camera on your fist. A motion to rise. Picasso couldn’t paint our portrait. There wouldn’t be enough angles in the world to discern our knees. My mind bows for you. My blood pools in your profile. My toes spread. I’ll feed you smiles.

I just took an oral exam in Italian high. UGH the pangs of guilt! Why oh why did I do that? Seriously, I need to shape up!

To expand on a few ideas:

I was talking to Carly Wicks who suggested that I was secretly dating one of those straight boys part I talked about. This lead my brain to the stable of possibilities. What if I am overlooking some massive sexual undertone to this particular relationship I have! Oh Doctor Date I met this boy and I think he likes me but I don’t want to ruin our friendship!!!1  Lonely1 Dear Lonely1, you need to calm the fuck down and be careful not to accidentally give anyone a handjob.

Really, I should start studying Italian more often. I refuse to get a B-.

Also, loyal readers should know that while I have been in an emotionally crippled stage for quite some time, I am actually making genuinely healthy progress in the process of forming the foundations of a normal friendship w/ (YOUKNOWWHO:):):):(:(:/;/>;,’;’.][.;-0-8875).

Giddy Giddy Gum Drops.

I have a really great demeanor lately that everybody should be taking advantage of. I have been slacking on school work and expect that to catch up with me eventually… but how long can I procrastinate the eventual meltdown? By not caring about grades! It is this new idea i’ve been floating around and man it keeps sounding better and better. It IS true that no one will ever ever care about my GPA. Except maybe graduate school which I’m not entirely sure I even plan on attending.

I have been meaning to write a meaningful entry, but as I sit here to do so I don’t feel very inspired.

There are a lot of things you should know, though.

Creatively, I’m experiencing an almost unbearable wave of really great shit. Monday, I was minding my own buinsess at the bus stop when I found myself suddenly creating a really decent song. I had to garageband it outside of Folwell so I wouldn’t forget during Italian. Also, I posted a song (I am now semi-embarassed about) online that I’m really excited to modify. Last night I played around w/ Andre on the electric organ. That shits golddddd. The stuff I’m doing in my theatre classes is really getting somewhere. Unfortunately, My Italian and Geo classes are suffering a bit. I have a B- in Italian which is lower than I’d like.

I start another show on Monday and I’m really excited about my role. Dario! Fuck yea. I plan on reading Ender’s Game again this weekend and then proceeding to write an essay about it for Tom’s sci fi zine thing. Very Rocket Power.

Lots of talk about the Power Rangers lately. I miss those times, huh. I remember spending entire fall days watching Free Willy and playing in abandoned lots with Cam or Paul or Eric. My childhood was so classically suburban. Am I a direct product of it? I’d like to think that the perfect specimen of that type of person is one of the Dinkytown whores. I don’t deny my common attributes with this breed of society, but prefer my end of the world… Fatcats and weed.

Too much weed by the way. I’m sorry friend but I refuse to buy anytime soon. I’m not a productive smoker. I fall asleep instead.

My love life is … well it is what it is. I’ve replaced a boyfriend for a kitten and close straight male friends. For the first time in my out life I have amassed a majority of close guys, and I like how much less tense my relationships with men are. Girls seem more egotistical from this perspective. Things continue to be at a standstill as far as any actual prospects go… I need to make a move in a certain situation soon. I’ve been playing it too safe (contrary to my new reputation as joe the risk-taker). I suppose I’m worried about attaching emotion to something that doesn’t seem to realistically amount to more than sex. That being said, I believe in the laws of attraction ever since Shannon won Monopoly last year at Kevin’s lakehouse.

I have been doing a lot of things that my body finds increasingly difficult to contend with;;;;;;

these include smoking more weed than my body can handle, not sleeping at my own house, and most importantly, a show called the woyzeck project. I don’t think anyone can say this show hasn’t been a roaring success but we close tonight and thank the good lord Jesus because I know I couldn’t do any more shows. three is pushing it. i think just two more sexes with nick is enough to put me over the edge. the feeling of being hurt everywhere is the feeling that I am currently feeling

in other news, my aunt friended me on facebook. i noticed this morning that my little brother caved in and added her too. the link to this blog is on my profile. I hope she clicks it. there is a lot of gold in here that could be delivered to the masses up home (this means canada ladies and gents) but regardless sometimes it’s hard to tell whether an entry is written by nicholas or myself so no jumping to conclusions Sharon!

well whatever at least I have america’s next top modelthons. I think I’ve already reached one or two milestones this weekend in the long process that will be convincing my roommates to get cable.

moosy sez relax

http://upsidedowndogs.com/page/1

OH MAN MAGGIE REMIND ME TO REMIND YOU TO PLAY EXQUISITE COURPSE WIT U.

MY SISTER GOT ENGAGED.

MY WALLET GOT LOST.

MY WEED GOT LOST.

MY TEACHER KNOWS T R KNIGHT.

I NEED A PIECE.

OH NO! I find myself in the midsts of a sort of AOL fight with a professor. With the play and what not I have been getting less sleep, resulting in nodding off during classmates’ scene work. Instead of talking to me in person, I recieved a passive agressive e-mail from said professor saying something to the effect of me being disrespectful. This isn’t the first time that I have been called as such but really…. you should see me in most classes… I am the angel. It is queer that this particular person has a negative view of me but I guess that is just how the world spins? Anyways I sent a response that was perhaps a bit to honest and I’m really worried that this will escalate into some sort of Luverne meeting. He already thinks that I may be a little bitch. All he needs is confirmation from one of his staff. DAMN!