exit here.
April 7, 2010Earcandy: Idioteque | Radiohead
Mood: high on extraterrestrial cannabis
No one knows, when he places a marijuana cigarette to his lips, whether he will become a joyous reveller in a musical heaven, a mad insensate, a calm philosopher, or a murderer…”
- Harry J. Anslinger
How do you escape?
Is it your banana soy? (grins), your electro-psychedelic X? your impromptu sexual tryst? your violence in painting?
Anything will fucking do. I just hope to god you’re not listening to Fireflies by Owl City. What are you, 12? Read the content warning and get out of here.
I’m teetering precariously on murderer.
Happy Birthday to an imouto and a sempai!
April 5, 2010[God, why the fuck do I have to blog everytime before I go out? Do I post because I’m scared it might be my last trace on earth? Fair reason, since night out after night out I get worse and worse. My face gets shittier than shitfaced, I puke out more than my one-meal a day, and DUIs are piling up. Thanks, Daddy for saving my arse using your underhanded methods so I can go home and get stoned, listening to Tom’s Diner. Feeling infinite. Frankly I’m not afraid of dying, but I do hope I die feeling as stellar as this.]
Pre-party:
2:30PM - shop for outift
4:30PM - meet up with bitches at spa
6:00PM - have a bottle for a kickstart
6:30PM - dress up
9:00PM - BLOG. Yes, it takes me that long to dress up.
10:30PM - pick up bitches who take longer than I do to dress up
11:30PM - arrive at the club.
12:30PM - drink 20 shots for the friend who’s turning 20. And pray to God I don’t die.
4:00AM - driving home. That is, if I don’t die.
Listening to: Let the Bass Kick | DJ Chuckie (original mix)
Want instant party atmosphere? Listen to that track and get stoned, then drop Daft Punk’s One More Time. Meanwhile I go poison myself yet again.
Arrivederci.
