Before I begin, I must add in one random comment:
SLANG NAMES FOR A VAGINA #29:
-Roast Beef Curtains-
==========================
I...
Am Sooooo....
FUCKING PISSED OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alright, I did promise some people to go into semi-detail about my wild night with my friend Amber, but I'll have to do that later.
Today was too eventful for my liking. First, I had a business lunch with my photographer, Antonia Cove. As many of you know, I'm in the middle of writing a promotional article for the World Inferno F.S., based around the theme of covering one of their biggest shows to date, opening for Gogol Bordello (ugh...) at Irving Plaza. Antonia is an amazing photographer who took some great photos of the band and crowd. I hope to have it published in either the Village Voice or Time Out New York, and with those photos this article is destined to hit one of those two.
So then I decided to take my old friend Rachel to see the new Tarentino film, Kill Bill Vol. 1. EXCELLENT!!!
A convorsation with Rachel, worshipper of Quentin:
Rachel: WHAT?! WE'RE GOING TO SEE KILL BILL???? YEEEEEEESSSSSS!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, DAN, MUAH!!! How on Earth did you get tickets?
Dan: ... ::Wondering how he COULDN'T...:: Well, they weren't exactly sold out, Rache...
Rachel: WELL THEY SHOULD BE! Damnit, you Irish fucker, go back to the booths and buy all the tickets! ALL OF THEM!!!!! WE MUST MAKE QUENT LOOK IMPORTANT!
Dan: ...Quent..?
So we went to see Kill Bill, which was great. To show her appreciation for me taking her to see the "Sundance King's" new film, I got a hand job in the middle of the theartre. Which made it just so much better. A+ for outstanding effort, in my opinion.
I'll leave it up to you to decide what I give that grade to.
Then came the bullshit.
I got a call from Carmine. He's leaving Canada. Coming back home, wrestling is too tough on him aparently. AFTER ONLY A WEEK OF BEING UP THERE HE'S GIVING UP ON HIS DREAM! I decide to dwell on this over dinner with Rachel, and we go to TGI Friday's to share a burger and some beer.
My tires were slashed. My fucking tires were slashed.
Some dumbass greaseball who was pissed off got dared to slash tires with his knife. After a 10 minutes in an arguement, he slashed 19 tires; one on my Acura (MY NEW FUCKING TIRE!!!), one on a Jeep Wrangler, 3 on a Subaru, 2 on an Audi A4, all four on a Jaguar, all four on a Nissan Maxima, and all four on a Toyota Camery. Rachel tried to cheer me up with a blow job on the way back to her house. It didn't work.
So now, here I sit at my computer, ready to get back to work until I pass out on the keyboard at 3 AM, drowning my sorrows in a bottle of cheap Merlot. Two bottles, actually, and as much as a 6-pack of Mike's Lemonade as I can handle.
If I ever catch that fucking bastard who did this, him and his fucking Navy-Blue Suade Jumpsuit will not find themselves out of a ditch off of I-95 for three weeks. That sonuvabitch...He looked like he just got out of the faggot-version of Riker's Island with those clothes.
Goodnight, oh cruel world.
SLANG NAMES FOR A VAGINA #29:
-Roast Beef Curtains-
==========================
I...
Am Sooooo....
FUCKING PISSED OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alright, I did promise some people to go into semi-detail about my wild night with my friend Amber, but I'll have to do that later.
Today was too eventful for my liking. First, I had a business lunch with my photographer, Antonia Cove. As many of you know, I'm in the middle of writing a promotional article for the World Inferno F.S., based around the theme of covering one of their biggest shows to date, opening for Gogol Bordello (ugh...) at Irving Plaza. Antonia is an amazing photographer who took some great photos of the band and crowd. I hope to have it published in either the Village Voice or Time Out New York, and with those photos this article is destined to hit one of those two.
So then I decided to take my old friend Rachel to see the new Tarentino film, Kill Bill Vol. 1. EXCELLENT!!!
A convorsation with Rachel, worshipper of Quentin:
Rachel: WHAT?! WE'RE GOING TO SEE KILL BILL???? YEEEEEEESSSSSS!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, DAN, MUAH!!! How on Earth did you get tickets?
Dan: ... ::Wondering how he COULDN'T...:: Well, they weren't exactly sold out, Rache...
Rachel: WELL THEY SHOULD BE! Damnit, you Irish fucker, go back to the booths and buy all the tickets! ALL OF THEM!!!!! WE MUST MAKE QUENT LOOK IMPORTANT!
Dan: ...Quent..?
So we went to see Kill Bill, which was great. To show her appreciation for me taking her to see the "Sundance King's" new film, I got a hand job in the middle of the theartre. Which made it just so much better. A+ for outstanding effort, in my opinion.
I'll leave it up to you to decide what I give that grade to.
Then came the bullshit.
I got a call from Carmine. He's leaving Canada. Coming back home, wrestling is too tough on him aparently. AFTER ONLY A WEEK OF BEING UP THERE HE'S GIVING UP ON HIS DREAM! I decide to dwell on this over dinner with Rachel, and we go to TGI Friday's to share a burger and some beer.
My tires were slashed. My fucking tires were slashed.
Some dumbass greaseball who was pissed off got dared to slash tires with his knife. After a 10 minutes in an arguement, he slashed 19 tires; one on my Acura (MY NEW FUCKING TIRE!!!), one on a Jeep Wrangler, 3 on a Subaru, 2 on an Audi A4, all four on a Jaguar, all four on a Nissan Maxima, and all four on a Toyota Camery. Rachel tried to cheer me up with a blow job on the way back to her house. It didn't work.
So now, here I sit at my computer, ready to get back to work until I pass out on the keyboard at 3 AM, drowning my sorrows in a bottle of cheap Merlot. Two bottles, actually, and as much as a 6-pack of Mike's Lemonade as I can handle.
If I ever catch that fucking bastard who did this, him and his fucking Navy-Blue Suade Jumpsuit will not find themselves out of a ditch off of I-95 for three weeks. That sonuvabitch...He looked like he just got out of the faggot-version of Riker's Island with those clothes.
Goodnight, oh cruel world.