it's 12:01 am, on October 24, 2002 - my teeth sitting on a plate.
~
Okay, the more interesting stuff first, so it goes:
a. while I was watching Ocean's Eleven and bemoaning my mouth, Al was writing an entry that went "I'm going to new york". In lieu of this entry, read her instead.
b. the new layout has a lot to do with kel and the joke about Justin being the new Charles Manson, and how when people start turning up scalped after Justin disappears to build a commune in the nevada desert? we'll really have to tell the FBI that we've been profiling him for the last ten years, and yes, this was bound to happen. Also, Chris isn't coming back. He just loves your brain! --that never stops being funny.
c. henry lee + ottis 4eva.
...neither does that.
Now, the boring part wherein there are rambles about death, halloween, and wisdom teeth -- which I got pulled today and already, I think my intelligence level has dropped several points. Of course that could be the codeine.
Mel posted today about what she wants, should she die. This, one has to assume, is in part due to the passing of Dannell Lites, a comic fanfic writer that many of us interacted with. It's, odd, to think of someone dying online.
So, since I jump on every bandwagon. What a girl wants, or at least this girl. it's strange; I used to have a file on some computer somewhere with this kind of information on it, in case One Day I Killed Myself. morbid much? yes, but I was an angsty child, angsty teenager, and never pretend otherwise.
Really, I own nothing of value at all, I don't think. I mean, I have $20,000 worth of debt, and I'd like to will that straight back to the Government of the Province of British Columbia and the Federal Government of Canada. fuck you too, student loans! I have, some writing. which y'all may fight over at will.
in that other file? paris got all my writing. of course, that was almost six years ago and I don't even know where he lives anymore or when and if he died, either.
so, no. um. you people know that my writing has nothing to offer outside the rather small social circle in which we find ourselves. Should anyone want to take the pornography written about nsync and make them aware of it, post-mortem, just saying, I wouldn't be adverse. Otherwise, claim what you want.
Like mel, should there be a wake, I want a party, not a fucking sombre affair. In a perfect world though, I'd be cremated and my urn dumped somewhere of no consequence. there'd be no funeral. People would remember me by getting trashed and having some fun.
also, my new Goal For Halloween is to go out somewhere packed with Cathy, dressed as Christina Aguilera from the 'dirrty' video. I think I'd be able to pull it off, much bigger ass non-withstanding. I'm not 300 pounds; not even 130. And while I don't wear a size zero I have attitude and fuck it, miniskirts were made for this body, baby.
um. today is random.
Finally, an update on the wisdom teeth thing, since all two of you out there who've seen Magnolia know that oral surgery is a sure sign of love: I now have no wisdom teeth. I do, however, have a bottle of codeine and a vague ache in my jaw that keeps threatening to become a massive ache and pain. the upside of this is that I have a prescription that, somehow, allows me to take codeine once every two to three hours until I feel better. Which possibly very much explains this entry.
Ocean's Eleven didn't make my teeth feel much better, but since Sheila and Al are both going to be in new york city this weekend, I'm feeling good regardless. My spirit'll be there even if I won't. Maybe my spirit animal too, Pete wisdom sucking Joey off backstage, just to spite me. and while he's doing that I'll probably be watching some other homoerotic Brad Pitt movie.
~
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