07.08.02 - 6:28 pm

id much rather be forever in blue jeans.

im sitting on my bed typing wishing i was on my stomach but i cant be because i dont know how i would handle that with two mikes hard lemonades in my stomach and trying to retain as much enebriation as possible from this experience while i talk to my friend elizabeth about her spilling the beans to her parents about her and her first sexual encounter four days after the initial one happened and now shakira is singing about small breasts and humble mountains and wherever she can make peculiar noises while she rolls her tiongue and she has only used protection twice which coincidentally is almost as many mikes hard lemonades ive dranken in the past thirty minutes or so and i can feel whats going on inside me but as much as d rather be pissed drunk id rather have a limo pick me up and escort me to sarahs aunts house so that i may see her and have her drive me to a movie so that we can sit, watch and enjoy whatever we chose to watch but nmost of all, particularly i would much rather be anywhere where chumbawamba is singing the song im listening to now because im not sorry i was having fun by the time i got to woodstock it was going up in flames ive got that old tiype religion where we still cross the picket lines and weve got rush limbaugjh on our side but do we really you know you know that i shouldnt be driving right now and im glad im not because if i did with my luck id be pulled over however if derek smith was driving he wouldnt be because for some reason god has chosen me to smite with the curse of corrupt cops that FEED MY FRANKENSTEIN.

im not drunk but i am. sort of.