interesting fact about yours truly: when I think I'm alone in a stairwell, I slap my heels against the steps as I decend, just because it's the closest I will ever come to tap dancing. I'm nothing special really, but for those few seconds, I'm Gregory god damn Hines. consequently, I've fallen down a lot of stairs. usually, when and if I'm found, I pretend to be drunk.
So this week has been kinda finger-banging my sense of self worth, but I'm dealing with it I guess. I'm in that stage of living in a new town where the luster has begun to slightly wear and I find myself a little bit bored with my surroundings. I have quasi-haunts now, which is good, but they all have dollar drink specials, which people keep telling me is bad. Whatever fags. Don't misunderstand me, everything thats wrong with my surroundings is obviously everything that's wrong with me and I'm not incapable of seeing that. I'd just rather believe that the world is totally screwing me in return for the super-powers that I'll develop when the aliens invade. Oh I'll fight for justice alright, you just wait and see.
SXSW is coming up soon with it's "free booze day parties" and since those are the words to my favorite song, i'm slightly a twitter with excitement, but more honestly, I just hope that I will get my sorry ass in gear and make it out "there" at least once. I probably won't. But I'll lie and tell a really good story about it. You will love it, I swear.
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