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burping orange

i feel like my calves are on fire. any self-respecting blog deserves a good drunken post every now and again. nothing like typing with your eyes closed and pulling balk on your memories of being in tenth grade and learning to touch type. computers. binary. then typing class. whenever holidays appear creating stupdie typed out illustrationsof faces or flags or whatever. i think i got an A or a B-. i passed. and learned to touch type, which is something all of us older non-internet generation kids needed to do because yeah becaus.

feels like my calves are on fire.

on fire. that's all i could think of while i shuffled home from the bar yes shuffled. robert ownsend where are you now?????????
the sound of the keys is so awesome i could sit here and ramble for hours bout i won't. argh. eyes closed. computer screen burning my retinas.


out. peach.

just saw that i typed peach instead of peace. whatevs.

UPDATE (9:55am, 5/21/05):
this state of drunkenness lead to a night which caused dreams in which i tried to ride from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe on a MoPed and argued the efficacy of wearing blue lycra futuristic Birkenstocks in the snow.

Comments

wow, good thing you left that last drink unfinished. i've never blogged drunk, but now i'm thinking that i should try it.

yeah, i don't suggest it. you just kind of wake up feeling stupid.

out. peach. is my new favorite expression. alcohol: a depressant? me thinks not.

oh, and i think in your dream you may have been channeling my high school boyfriend, who insisted upon wearing aqua socks throughout an entire alaskan winter. and i was the one who ended up with frostbite.

aquasocks are such a funny concept. and, let's admit, probably sensible in the right circumstances. but funny. i think i'm going to try to work them into conversation at least once per week.