Zach "Deacon" Kuhn
It's a marvelous night for a moondance.
It's too fucking hot outside for April. I like it 70 and cloudless, with a breeze. No fucking humidity. Now there's humidity and heat and sun and everything else and I'm pished. Tonight means last night of class and a mix of Friends, the Survivor fiasco (I mean finale), Will and Grace (slowly growing unfunny); and ER. Then the last regular season game at the Stadium, for 2 dollah brews and some skanky dudes and dudettes wearing their skeezy summer shit.
Marcie and I share a birthday last year, and he ends up in the pile of clothes in his room puking on Matt's hat and being a general mess while I end up the last one standing, talking to our neighbors about flicking the bean and working at Mitsubishi. Granted, I refused Tequilla shots while Marcie was too dopey to, but I had to take about eight of my own choosing, mostly whiskey. And the people (for the most part) who drink Martinis or Wine at the bar are still trying to get you to notice how Hip they are, while they actually look very much like D-bags.
New additions to the mix tape madness: Quinn St. Helens.
The next five songs on yer radio in a perfect world would be: "Don't Lie to Me" by big star; "Helpless" by Sugar; "Plans" by Ida; "regionalists" by the mt.st.helens; and "our weekend starts on wednesday" by hey mercedes which Ryan got to hear last night. I'm jealous.
In the stereo: cubs 1, padres 1
It's a marvelous night for a moondance.
It's too fucking hot outside for April. I like it 70 and cloudless, with a breeze. No fucking humidity. Now there's humidity and heat and sun and everything else and I'm pished. Tonight means last night of class and a mix of Friends, the Survivor fiasco (I mean finale), Will and Grace (slowly growing unfunny); and ER. Then the last regular season game at the Stadium, for 2 dollah brews and some skanky dudes and dudettes wearing their skeezy summer shit.
Marcie and I share a birthday last year, and he ends up in the pile of clothes in his room puking on Matt's hat and being a general mess while I end up the last one standing, talking to our neighbors about flicking the bean and working at Mitsubishi. Granted, I refused Tequilla shots while Marcie was too dopey to, but I had to take about eight of my own choosing, mostly whiskey. And the people (for the most part) who drink Martinis or Wine at the bar are still trying to get you to notice how Hip they are, while they actually look very much like D-bags.
New additions to the mix tape madness: Quinn St. Helens.
The next five songs on yer radio in a perfect world would be: "Don't Lie to Me" by big star; "Helpless" by Sugar; "Plans" by Ida; "regionalists" by the mt.st.helens; and "our weekend starts on wednesday" by hey mercedes which Ryan got to hear last night. I'm jealous.
In the stereo: cubs 1, padres 1
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