Title: Drunken bastards R us
Hearing: South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut
Feeling: Oh holy shit, am I toasted.
Oooh, am I a drunk girl. Yes, I am. Leo, Bill and I are drinking Captain Morgan and Coke. My stress is slowly but surely MELTING AWAY, I say. Bill is trying to make us going in swimming. It is too cold and I would probably drown in six inches of water.
*burp*
Ahh, I feel better.
Leo's pad is cool, but really damn messy. We're all sitting on the couch and we're all logged into Eagle's Nest. Which is fucking pathetic, but hey.
Do you have any idea how much effort it's taken me to eliminate the typoes in this entry?
Okay. So we met Monika (rhymes with "moan", yes it does, which is just ironic) tonight. She's great. And she gives great backrubs, I might add. She and I went to the grocery store to get fixins' for the hamburgers tomorrow. I was all butch and stuff and carried her groceries for her (all two bags). Woo, go me. I was raised a Southern gentleman, you know.
Bill and Leo are admiring my tongue. I don't know why. They say I have the best lesbian tongue they've ever seen. I just waggle my eyebrows at them and tell them don't they wish they knew. Erm, or something like that. I don't even want to think about the grammatical weirdness of that last sentence.
I miss my girlfriend. I do, I do. We, all three of us, left her a very drunken, very obnoxious voice mail message. I hope she'll be in later. This is just paybacks, PAYBACKS, I say, for her calling me very drunk last night. Which I actually thought was really cute. I miss Cynthia so bad. Gah. She needs to be here for me to cuddle up on. Yes, she does.
Okay, I can't feel my fingers any more, so it's time for my to, uhm, not type any more. Yeah. Night. Or something.
-- marcie.