old man woke up at ten. pretty girl woke up at noon. she glid across the hardwood in her frilly lil nightie. or is it a slip. or is it a dress. i feel bad that shes barefoot cuz my floors are rarely clean. kissed the top of my head and balleted across the great room out the front door and over the dirt hill that used to be my front lawn cartwheeling down the arched driveway to the golden gates to the rolled up newspaper.
sat indian style on my polar bearskin rug bobbing her head to the new jay-z trying to find out when starsky n hutch was playing at the manns chinese and telling me how she thought the hova was lame-a until this record and you never know what a brothas gotta do to get the whitegirl crossover and i told her that i think theres something wrong with me that i really love the new britney single and before i know it shes on the computer going through all her favorite blogs.
last night we were headed to the airport cuz i was certain that she had only hitchhiked out here so she could tell her friends that she'd gotten it on with the busblog and boys can feel used sometimes too and she got it so she called up her friend her best friend who was all she doesnt want to tell everyone she got it on with the busblog she wants to tell everyone that she did it with lick. so we were cool again.
wish the same could be said for clipper girls cousin miss montreal rosalita and ashley. the daisy princess emailed me and asked if i thought she was hotter/cooler/prettier than her and i was all you/are/taken.
of course i will lose everything and have to start over and thats cool. ive had so many mid life crisises and followup renovations and new management signs put up that ive run out of rusty nails. shes smaller than you think. shorter. cuter. smarter. realer. i havent officially weighed her but id say just around perfect. shes clearly not in love with me but ashley wouldnt believe that since she thinks any hot chick who walks into my place immediately rips their own clothes off and demands to be anally intruded even though she knows i dont do that
on the first date.
i feel fat next to her. im getting fat. i never minded before. i still dont really mind. but then i saw the chart on the right and i remembered that jerry garcia didnt die of a heroin od he died cuz he spent his whole life eating junk food and his shit got all clogged up. i dont want my shit all clogged up.
back to the chart. looks like that war on drugs sure worked. no ones dying any more from dope. now i wonder if they will use just as much time money and effort on either keeping americans from smoking cigs or eating themselves into an early grave.
after they finish protecting us from howard stern and janet jacksons teet.
old man woke up at ten. pretty girl woke up at noon. she glid across the hardwood in her frilly lil nightie. or is it a slip. or is it a dress. i feel bad that shes barefoot cuz my floors are rarely clean. kissed the top of my head and balleted across the great room out the front door and over the dirt hill that used to be my front lawn cartwheeling down the arched driveway to the golden gates to the rolled up newspaper.