08.04.02 Its Sunday night again. And again. And again. Is it just me? Or are there an alful lot of fucking Sundays? I am so half-dead. Casey's dad went to Sturgis this weekend so we lived it up in the empty house with a fully stocked liqour cabinet. Boyfriend spun his little heart out Saturday night (thanks to me for hauling the turntables all the way out to bumble-fuck georgia) & Kenny just complained the whole night about how it was supposed to be "krunk" and it wasn't... I guess he expected wild naked hookers or something. I was the only girl there, not to mention that I was the oldest person by like 3 or 4 years... (well, besides old-ass Kenny). The 'lil childrens were all chugging liqour, watching semi-porn, & chain smoking cigarettes--- I have never felt so old in my life....cause there I was wishing that I was getting drunk at home in front of the TV... Actually, the getting drunk at home thing could be another symptom of a deeper problem than "oldness". I don't know. I hate parties, though. ******** Boyfriend's dad bought (us?) an air-conditioner so the PRECIOUS little records would not "melt". & I got a lot of stuff moved in the house as well... So I guess I'm almost set up... Not long until I can sit on my couch in a different house & drink my Sauza Diablos... mmmmmm! ******** Bo called tonight. Apparently, rehab is not as fun as he expected. So he took his evening break, hopped on MARTA and went to find some relief... ahhh, Bo, when will we ever learn??? |
|