May 30, 2002
Moulin Madness
Somehow I always find myself sitting in one of the little plexi-glass huts in the Argosy parking lot, staring at the bright lamps and singing 'One Day I'll Fly Away' from Moulin Rouge. It's a lonely song. I am generally lonely.
My winamp is delusional. It seems to think that every track on the Moulin Rouge CD is by David Bowie.
Far from the case, indeed.
Today I ate... a strawberry poptart, pasta, a piece and a half of garlic bread, ice cream, a few barbeque ribs, and a kit kat. I am Jabba the Hutt. I am.
I will make it a point tomorrow to eat broccoli, or something else of equal green-age.
I wish I could be a vegetarian. It just does not seem possible for me, who loves chili and steak and, as aforementioned, barbeque ribs.
Dropped off the magical artistic film today, so fairly soon you shall be seeing the past month's adventures in photography. I am most excited about the pictures of Kelsi and I in movie theatre bathrooms.
That sounds bad. I swear it's not.
Hey. You with The Hair. My interview just got published on live-music, so I think you should go read it. I was lucky enough to have a lovely chat with Brandon Boyd.
Yeah. Right.
But I was excited all the same at my own ingenuity, if that's what it can be called. I prefer the term 'dumb luck,' myself.
I wish I could say that I made some advancement on my being-new-real-Jill, but alas, I have not. Chris didn't work, so I couldn't sneak up behind him and kiss his neck or blow just behind his ear.
God, I think about doing that all the time...
My Han Solo amp has a 'Scoundrelizer.' I love that.
Please go tell him that he is a Wussy Banana Swimmy Chocolate Booger Boy. He is. He just doesn't know it yet.
And I'll bet you didn't know that Svelt Williams is an awesome barber.
Would I be sane if I were on drugs?
astera at 11:19 p.m.