2002-09-02 || 2:52 a.m.

|| one night in my righteous house. ||

i am seated in my living room. among boxes and boxes and owen's forlorn belongings (van broke down. stuck in the purgatory of berkeley, c-a.) and a very lovely tania and a disheveled owen (me:'i am calling you disheveled, o.' owen: 'why am i disheveled?!?!' me: 'you're a little disheveled.' o: 'i'm going through some serious shit right now.... could you quote me as saying diaryland is for fucking weenies?'

me: 'you're going to lose so many fans sayin that.') and a sweet sweet brian. and see, we were lyin around talking. and i thought 'i have to capture this love on the innernet.' so.

and the thought was. i would have a round table discussion about something or other. but poor ton is very tired. and the boys snuck out to smoke. so now i am stalling until they get back, for i will capture something entry worthy, i will. typing fingers please don't fail me now.

ahem. roundtable discussion:

me: okay, dogs, say somethin good.

(now they are not talking. they are running to the kitchen and unpacking suitcases and brian is playing his new favorite song, 'the diary of horace wimp' by none other than e l o. oh criminy. no talkin. just lots of e l o at this point. hrm.)

see. really. these conversations we have been having? so good.

i am now looking pointedly at owen. o: 'i am not going to say anything.'

j: 'i am totally gonna run your name through the mud, man.'

o: 'i'm just best experienced in person, jenn.'

brian: 'are you writing about people napping?' (ton is napping.)

i am giving up. good night.

wait.

o: 'jenn. did you hear your sister is thinking of starting an e l o cover band called she l o ?'

me: 'did you hear about the blue oyster cult cover band? either blue oyster cunt or pink oyster cult.'

okay. for reals. giving up now.

kisses.

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