ZooK
I'm allowed.
Marcie! Fix the fucking BLARG! It's time for your Ass-whooping!
yesterday I bought the new Bill Janovitz solo record, and Greg at Deadpan says to me: "oh man, yer dating yerself". No, I wasn't taking myself out fer dinner. I guess the real proof of my oldness is that I lovedBuffalo Tom growing up. So now I feel even older, to go along with the hair and the G and the fact that kids born in 1985 are driving cars now.
School is school is school, but its better when Juno comes to town (or Champaign). Haven't seen them live yet, and that is not a good thing.
Last night I had my Creative Writing class. The girl that sits next to me is 95% blind and has already written 10 Chapters of a book she calls "historical fiction about Vietnam". Jeez. I see with the assistance of modern science, and all I have is 40 sheets of graph paper divided in lines of three of handwritten nonsense. My professor is one I've had before, and he asked me if I had published yet, and I was all quizzical and said "No..." and he just frowned me and was like, "get moving on that". Who am I, godforsaken Stephen King?
Next five: "The Length of Las Ramblas" by Superchunk; "Debonair" by the Afghan Whigs; "Count me in on the crack-a-lacking" by the l()is lane department of Trailer Maintenance; "Teeth Like God's ShoeShine" by modest mouse; and "the young influentials" by juno.
in the stereo: new Superchunk EP. Only Mac could write a couplet like "Hillside scratching on a cheap post card/and I hear chickens running crazy laps in a dusty yard". Nice.
I'm allowed.
Marcie! Fix the fucking BLARG! It's time for your Ass-whooping!
yesterday I bought the new Bill Janovitz solo record, and Greg at Deadpan says to me: "oh man, yer dating yerself". No, I wasn't taking myself out fer dinner. I guess the real proof of my oldness is that I lovedBuffalo Tom growing up. So now I feel even older, to go along with the hair and the G and the fact that kids born in 1985 are driving cars now.
School is school is school, but its better when Juno comes to town (or Champaign). Haven't seen them live yet, and that is not a good thing.
Last night I had my Creative Writing class. The girl that sits next to me is 95% blind and has already written 10 Chapters of a book she calls "historical fiction about Vietnam". Jeez. I see with the assistance of modern science, and all I have is 40 sheets of graph paper divided in lines of three of handwritten nonsense. My professor is one I've had before, and he asked me if I had published yet, and I was all quizzical and said "No..." and he just frowned me and was like, "get moving on that". Who am I, godforsaken Stephen King?
Next five: "The Length of Las Ramblas" by Superchunk; "Debonair" by the Afghan Whigs; "Count me in on the crack-a-lacking" by the l()is lane department of Trailer Maintenance; "Teeth Like God's ShoeShine" by modest mouse; and "the young influentials" by juno.
in the stereo: new Superchunk EP. Only Mac could write a couplet like "Hillside scratching on a cheap post card/and I hear chickens running crazy laps in a dusty yard". Nice.
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