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2002-11-25 || 8:22 a.m. || yer daughter's bleedin, man. || i wrote something yesterday but deleted it because it was bloody awful. lately everything is bloody awful. and i would rather lie around watching comfort movies such as breathless and waiting for guffman than come up with something good to write about. who knew that 800mg of ibuprofin a pop would give you such a headache? and that even now, at this age, when you bring up your deadly ladycramps to your father he still has to hand the phone over to mummy? there was random ghetto salsa dancing (as in. the music didn't necessarily call for salsa dancing. we just took it upon ourselves.) this weekend at the make out room. i was told the hand sisters are very good salsa dancers, who knew? and there were out of townies shacking up in my bedroom while i lay on the couch and dreamt of a boy i know in striped speedos and another boy i know tucked into the bed of a pick up truck. but no action. no dreamy hottness, nope. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |