I think it's the mmm that does it for me. So specific.
Dreamt about hanging out in a bar last night, with many of you. JC was there. He gave me the most surprised look... then I woke up. Mother fuck.
Why can't I just dream about fucking like a normal person?
I decided to drill a hole in this fiberboard thingie I'm using as a tv stand, so the DVR could go inside the thingie and the cords could come out. Went to Walmart, bought a cheapo drill, made a hole. It works.
You don't understand. I'm a competent person, as a rule, but only because in everything I do I've made every possible mistake that can be imagined, and then some. Today, I simply made a plan and executed it successfully. Freaky. Now I'm waiting for the thingie to collapse or the DVR to blow up, of course.
It has occurred to me that I can start writing now. In fact, I better start, because I signed up for lilysaid's crossdressing Challenge.
But I'm at a loss. How does one approach this writing jazz, again?
Maybe I should clean my, um, stove or something.
Oh! That's how.
So, Challenge. People, like, dress up for the parties, right? Shit.
This might not gell with the whole "crawlspace" vibe I've been working on lately.
Off to the Salvador Dali museum, this afternoon.
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