Friday, November 26, 2004

Thanksgiving. Ok.
My grandma, in an effort to persuade me to get married and pregnant, told me all about my father's birth. (Shriek!)
She asked me, "Why did you dye your hair red?"
"Uhh, Grandma...it's not red..."

Then hung out with the Jessy and Manslave and wee Boab, the shiteing little hound.
Drank tequila in the car and went to IHOP with Jessy and Kevin Cafiretruck and Dan.
Threw some sugar packets, hit on some girls, and got stared at by all the loser boys there.
"Dude, I hear pink haired girls give good head. Huh huh."

Oh yeah, and I'm dying of tuberculosis, still.

posted at 11:09 AM |