wellman

Hi-fucking-larious. Life, I mean. Well, first of all, the girls love me. The girls here in real life, but they won't, of course, deign to sleep with me or anything like that. I've heard that I "drink too much." Good god! Since when was that such a big deal? It's not like I can't fucking afford it! I'm not crashing at my girlfriend's apartment like half the assholes I know. And I smoke. OOOOOH! So perverse, I am. I'm not comPLETEly herero. Oh jesus save me! Sorry, I live in a shitbag small town right now. Maybe things will be better in Chicago.

Oh, and in other news, I've decided to reread (the gods preserve me) "Ada, or Ardor," by Nabokov. It's a monster, but well worth it. Sometimes, even with the OED, I can't tell what the hell he's talking about. Nabokov is better than drugs. He's kind of like dexadrine with footnotes and a sense of humor.


Oh, but the girls say they love me. I've made beautiful girls cry, so they say, when I play shows. Are they trying to turn me on, or what? Ugh. They just make me want to drink more. Like I'm some sort of monster in a menagerie that they shelled out four or five bucks to stare at for thirty minutes. Well, cry on.. it's healthy, at least.

O.K. This is just a little tounge-in-cheek, but the basics are all true. I haven't dated anyone for three years, and I'm not the "nice" guy, or whatever...

Jeez. Well, If the SG's can complain, so can I.