Behold: Someone actually took a picture of me. Now I don't have to put my head to the scanner to show my annual blonde.
Last night was good times. Well after work anyway. I was surprised to find what I thought was going to be a few friends to be an entire SGNY event. (Dear Lord Wendy is gorgeous, too bad she took off before I had the courage to tell her).
And of course Its good to know I can walk into a bar after last call, flirt with the dj, make friends with her boyfriend, get free drinks, vomit in the bathroom and still try to be taken home by the owner.
And it was really good to talk to Nixon again. Especially at dawn on St. Marks.
I really needed that, (well maybe not those last two drinks) it was good to get out. But it came at its price. My heads still pounding. Someone come over and cook me breakfast?
Ugh. I'm going to have to wash off this eyeliner and actually venture under that burning orb with my pounding skull and I don't think that diner down the street is serving breakfast at five in the evening.
Oh. And shower. I need to do that too. I smell of bar.
Cthulhu approves. Cthulhu I imagine smells like rotting flesh (not his but of others). Hopefully he does not smell like rotting fish.
Last night was good times. Well after work anyway. I was surprised to find what I thought was going to be a few friends to be an entire SGNY event. (Dear Lord Wendy is gorgeous, too bad she took off before I had the courage to tell her).
And of course Its good to know I can walk into a bar after last call, flirt with the dj, make friends with her boyfriend, get free drinks, vomit in the bathroom and still try to be taken home by the owner.
And it was really good to talk to Nixon again. Especially at dawn on St. Marks.
I really needed that, (well maybe not those last two drinks) it was good to get out. But it came at its price. My heads still pounding. Someone come over and cook me breakfast?
Ugh. I'm going to have to wash off this eyeliner and actually venture under that burning orb with my pounding skull and I don't think that diner down the street is serving breakfast at five in the evening.
Oh. And shower. I need to do that too. I smell of bar.
Cthulhu approves. Cthulhu I imagine smells like rotting flesh (not his but of others). Hopefully he does not smell like rotting fish.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
demonesskage:
Oh? Do tell.
nixon:
The Mexican Consulate is next door. Immigrant rights, I'm guessing, although my Spanish is poor. Why this involves the most poorly played horns ever, I dunno.