Zach "Final" Kuhn
I'm just a fool from another day, and I'm lonely so won't you be brave?
What Marcie neglected to put on his list is the absolutely nasty horrible ratty San Francisco 49ers beach towel that he used for his infrequent showering for almost a year, unwashed. He brings it out into the kitchen today and goes: "Dude, check this out!"
I look over, and when I see it I damn near vomit. "That's nasty."
Marcie: "Dude, its not dirty. It's just ratty."
I want to live in a world where dirty and ratty are complete antonymns, like Marcie.
I have some studying to do, for my Drama final which is in 3 hours. I have to write for an hour about such amazingly interesting subjects as intertextuality and realism. Yawn.
Last night at work I: 1. Watched three innings of the Cubs/Brewers game. 2. Pulled the tops off of all the keys on my bosses keyboard and rearranged them to say JOE SUXZ across the home row. 3. Did a 'Nam roll to avoid my boss catching me leaving work early. 4. Got caught and had to sweep the warehouse. 5. Read an interesting article about sex from a woman's persepective in some sappy fashion mag.
Or my personal favorite: Son of Dad. It's a catch-all.
The next five rumours of people dying that would actually turn out to be true in a perfect world would be: Lou Reed (I got three emails this morning about him dying, all of which are false. He is still kicking.); Beyonce from D-Child (you know what the D stands for); Carson Daly; John F. Kennedy; and Elvis.
In the stereo: creeper lagoon (who do not sound like fucking third eye blind. Third eye blind play three chord G_D_C songs that are actually of a decent quality for a popular conglomerate d-bag label. Creeper play magical ditties)
I'm just a fool from another day, and I'm lonely so won't you be brave?
What Marcie neglected to put on his list is the absolutely nasty horrible ratty San Francisco 49ers beach towel that he used for his infrequent showering for almost a year, unwashed. He brings it out into the kitchen today and goes: "Dude, check this out!"
I look over, and when I see it I damn near vomit. "That's nasty."
Marcie: "Dude, its not dirty. It's just ratty."
I want to live in a world where dirty and ratty are complete antonymns, like Marcie.
I have some studying to do, for my Drama final which is in 3 hours. I have to write for an hour about such amazingly interesting subjects as intertextuality and realism. Yawn.
Last night at work I: 1. Watched three innings of the Cubs/Brewers game. 2. Pulled the tops off of all the keys on my bosses keyboard and rearranged them to say JOE SUXZ across the home row. 3. Did a 'Nam roll to avoid my boss catching me leaving work early. 4. Got caught and had to sweep the warehouse. 5. Read an interesting article about sex from a woman's persepective in some sappy fashion mag.
Or my personal favorite: Son of Dad. It's a catch-all.
The next five rumours of people dying that would actually turn out to be true in a perfect world would be: Lou Reed (I got three emails this morning about him dying, all of which are false. He is still kicking.); Beyonce from D-Child (you know what the D stands for); Carson Daly; John F. Kennedy; and Elvis.
In the stereo: creeper lagoon (who do not sound like fucking third eye blind. Third eye blind play three chord G_D_C songs that are actually of a decent quality for a popular conglomerate d-bag label. Creeper play magical ditties)
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