Wednesday, September 13, 2006
scandals, she wrote.
procrastination almost killed me. i had extensions, extension on extensions, medical certificates and doctor's (overdue) letter to excuse my academic incompetence while my writing progressed excruciatingly slow.the drama of my less than dolce vita worsens pms.
i did 2 weeks worth of laundry, tabloids crossword puzzles, drowned myself in the tuscan sun and baked some soul food- mini chocolate noir croissants.
the episode of sex, lies, no videotape but stale cigarettes appears to be true love, after 5 days of disappearing act. it's so hard to stay angry with her, seriously, if anyone of you lalas sexed on my furniture, i won't fume but allow me a week to detoxify all impure thoughts and rid the smell of sex.
quentin's indifference frightens me. it's not the first or the last you'll hear anyway. the thought of people hearing about you before they actually see you, the thought- it scares me - how these rumours eat you from the inside out.
today at dinner,
i didn't know trump likes his sunny side-ups medium well - cooked on both sides yet runny on the inside and marcus likes his medium rare - crisp at the bottom yet runny on the inside. but i like my eggs well-done or messed up; otherwise omlettes or scrambled (:
i've been on music therapy since. the shanghai 1940s cabaret of oriental lace, feather boas, red lips and white cheongsam. because he sings of rosemary - my previous incarnation, i can't remember how many times i've fallen hopelessly in love and (impossibly) out and all over again with him and his lofty, undying and endless love.
fuck at 9:31 PM
7 Comments
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at 10:16 PM
said... they look like little hamsters.
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at 12:03 AM
said...
Well, those hamsters tastes pretty damn good if i must say so.
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at 1:23 AM
said...
i havent noticed. perhaps you might want to dissect one and show me its head.
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at 1:15 AM
said...
yea, time for indifferent chia to remark.
hah, no no im no ike. yayas, no sex on my couch, my floor my kitchen; toilet allowed but please wash up.
and sex is sex, lovely sex when there's love, plain sexual sex when there's not.
THIS IS NOT A MALE THING TO SAY, because the world of brains is not segregated by genetic coincidence.
so let sex fade away from this picture and go heal ur friend of her love LA, go listen to her love without ur futon.-
at 2:02 PM
said...
oh, i assume is ek? not ekkk?
geesus.my friend is very much in love now, moving in with her beau in a couple of weeks.the grand affair - highly publicised. she doesn't need more healing (which is a good thing) (:-
at 12:53 AM
timtams said... oh my god whoever said those are hamsters deserve to be one!
hmm how does one even make puff pastries? come back and bake la, petite patiserrie.
and im with you, in academic incompetence. perhaps we are better off in other sort of engagements, like turn people with gross percepts into hamsters. or live happily in a hse-
at 6:25 PM
said...
who's squeaking and meowing? the onomaetopoeia has got to stop.