September 14th, 2003


I like to think of my candycorn as a weapon.

I'm fairly convinced South Street is somehow accumulating all of the errant moisture in the city. I haven't been anywhere near there lately without needing a shower afterwards, and this includes the 70 degree days.

I forget which of my bookshelves is Dirty Motherfucker and which is Skank-Ass Whore.

I am finding Halloween shopping to be somewhat unfriendly this year. The costumes look more worsened than ever, and I'm still holding a grudge against Halloween from last year.

I spend my time with precision improvidence.
  • Current Music
    Tom Waits