Yo, get this: blogs don't update themselves! Crazy, right?!
The internet world has been humming along without me. Dirty drunken mattress sex (with special stoop fucking anecdote bonus). And the revealing of the dude most likely to be getting his ass kicked this Wednesday night at Savalas (*hint, hint*).
At work, I'm swamped up to my eyeballs, barely having enough time to take up residency on the DH forum, but I make time to talk about the best liquor stores in the area and planning neighbor meetups. Oh yes I do. Last week was just a long painful blur. Friday night, I was in bed around midnight and woke up bright and early Saturday to do laundry and mostly lounge about. We're setting the world on fire!
Saturday was meeting up with friend C at PS 1 and heading to her place in Bushwick. I don't really "get" loft living. Isn't it just cheaper in the long run to get the place with walls? I'm a media bitch, not a carpenter. I'll be where the professionals already did that job. Plus it cuts down on such lovely interludes as when her roommate and his girlfriend decided to just start having sex. They closed the door, but surprise, the window area is just a hole, so we got every groan, moan, and creak. Lovely. C had to bring it to my attention (I'm good at only hearing what I want to hear) and then had a freakout which made me feel awkward because I'd hate for someone to be fucking up my shit when I'm in my zone...erm, or whatever. I'm just glad Ant and I don't have that problem. We've got some solid walls.
Anyways, we went to the d'n'b weekly. Jungle and d'n'b upstairs, speed garage in the basement. We surveyed the crowd warily for a long time. "Ugh, this crowd," she said. "It's just white bread idiots playing adventurer."
"Well, what do you expect?" I replied. "Who else lives around here now that apartments are $2600?"
"None of these people are junglists. First, there's no spliffs. Second, no colored people (besides us). Third, no camouflage. And most importantly, no screw faces!"
I'm not really a junglist myself, but I can screw face with the best of them and just throw myself in there. Word of advice to people at dancing parties who don't dance: get over yourself, find the beat, and ride it. You look 100x stupider being a statue than you would doing the Elaine dance or whatever. This has been a Kitty Power public service announcement. Thank you and good night.
See you next week!Posted by Candicissima at August 29, 2005 12:10 AM