Saturday, February 26, 2005

I did it again.
Last night was great, but I just can't keep myself out of trouble.
Swizzle Tree and Lucky Boys Confusion played one hell of a fucking show, as usual. Amazing.
And all of my loyal readers owe my friend Honeyman a big thankyou. There was a moshpit, and a red headed douche bag continued to shake sweat on everyone. Fine. That's bad etiquette even for a moshpit and fucking gross, but fine. But when that douchebag came out of the pit swinging his hands and elbows everywhere and proceeded to hit my little sister in the face I lost my temper.I mean really. She's 90 pounds. And she wasn't in the pit, so there's no need for that shit. I was halfway through my swing in a punch his mother was going to feel when all the sudden I feel my arms jerked back behind me. All I really heard was "CLARE!". Somehow Honeyman, who was in front of me, was behind me, holding me from beating the everloving shit out of this smelly redhead kid, and most likely from being incarcerated. So smelly red head kid, if you are reading this, you owe that boy a thankyou. Honeyman definitely earned some cool points for catching me, I'm not sure anyone else woulda thought about it.
Even more amazing that I managed to find myself mingling with band members, as usual. Ashley had to leave early to work, and I just wasn't having it.
However, even Stubhy from LBC couldn't stop her. Which was sad.
However, I got to chill with his brother, the lead singer of Swizzle Tree, and I can say honestly that he's one of the coolest people I've had the pleasure of kicking it with in a long time.
We took a very blurry picture together. (We were both drinking. It took both of us awhile to figure out how to work my camera phone) in which he had to stoop down because my arms were too short to get us both in the picture, and he was sweet as hell about giving me a CD. Did I mention that he's gorgeous?
You may ask yourself, how does this crazy ho get to meet everyone.
I asked him if I could rub his head. It was shaved. He said yes, and really once you've crossed that threshold, there's no turning back.
Things I learned last night:
There is actually someone else in my school that likes scotch.
Rock stars are hot.
Indian rock stars are hotter.
I have an odd talent for meeting people.
And finally, I learned that Honeyman can fly.

Anyway. Check out Swizzle Tree and Lucky Boys Confusion, buy their music, and see their shows.
I'm gonna go ice down my bruises.
I got guilt tripped
(in more ways than one).
I'm drunk. Its 4:32 AM
I just saw Swizzle Tree and LBC.
Great show, hung ou twith Stuby and his hbrother, Saarang.
Then I chilled with entirely too many frat boys, including Charles and Honeyman.
My bar is now empty, but any night that involves drinking games and someone I know falling asleep in a bed with 2 girls rocks.

Details later.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

About the comments.

Tell me who you are. That shit drives me crazy. The only one who ever left any random comments was Chris, and I always knew it.
Let's keep it that way, or you really won't like my next post.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

My comments are fixed, people. Use them. I like to get feedback. It lets me sleep better at night.

Anyway. It's the day after Valentines Day. I didn't gorge myself on chocolate. I didn't get drunk and I sure as fuck didn't get any flowers. Way to go, guys, what do I keep you around for, anyway?
Next year, here is an itemized list of what I want.
1) Chocolate. Mint meltaways from Fannie Mae, to be specific. And anything Godiva.
2) Beer. Bud light. Bottles. Yes, I know it's piss water, but I like it.
3) Chris. He still owes me drunk time. (And before I get 4 billion emails about how I'm a slut, I'd like to point out that it's not like that. He's my buddy. He owes me drunk time. It's not like I asked to see him in the nude).
4) Fight Club, Donnie Darko, Garden State and both Resident Evils. Nothing says love like shooting a gun at your invisible friend, having a jet engine fall into your bedroom (ever seen the deleted impalement scene? Wicked), having "balls" written on your forehead and having to kill zombies while wearing sexy boots. It's how I want to spend MY holiday, thankyouverymuch.
5) Chris naked. (I hadn't thought of it before #3, but in retrospect it's really not such a bad idea).
6) No classes. Really. I want to be able to sleep in the day after Valentine's Day. It benefits everyone. Those assholes who actually got some can get some actual sleep, and it gives the rest of us time to sober up.
7) Someone to tell me that it's alright to sluff around in my jammies all day and hate anyone who's in love who isn't me.
8) Jammies that have the feet on the bottom. Those things fucking rock.
9) Someone to bring me a Lou Malnaties or Little Italian Pizza, in the nude. (Refer to #5).

That's all for now. So make with the flowers and candies, bitches.

Steak and a Blow Job Day

Fuck V Day

Until the Violence Stops

Top 10 Reasons Valentines Day Still Sucks

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Careful what you wish for.

Zero Compliance: When I got my first tattoo I told everybody about it, and these girls came up to me and asked to see it when I was out with Stacy.
Zero Compliance: So of course, down my pants went.
TweekerChickQC: Where the hell is your tattoo?
Zero Compliance: On my shoulder.
Zero Compliance: She got pissed.
It's been a very very busy week or so on this end.
However, I had to stop cleaning my aparment (impending Mom visit) to wish Chris a happy birthday.
Am I few days late? Probably.
Chris is the one guy who I've loved to death over the years, has really never made me too angry, and actually taught me how to have a little fun.
Now, if he'd only stop and visit me once in awhile, I'd be happy.
Regardless, Happy Birthday to one of the best friends a girl could ask for.
And here's your present from me.

Don't say I never give you anything.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

I know it's been awhile. It's been a rough week or so.
As soon as I got back into town, I got news that my friend Ed died.
To be totally honest, I've taken news better.
A whole lot better.
He was my boy. Sometimes I swear he was the only reason I didn't off myself a kid or two at work. (Had I seen this I may have been a nicer employee).
A day just wasn't the same without him looking at me, wearing that stupid white t-shirt that went past his knees, saying "Hi babygirl" and playing with one of my favorite rings, telling me that someday he was gonna be a baller like his Clarissa.
It's actually a miracle we even got to see him, we were so late that the wake was over entirely when we got there. The receptionist at the funeral home let us in anyway (and we appriciate it, and I think she scored some extra points with god).
I couldn't help myself, and I slipped that ring (the one with 2 diamonds in it) into his coat pocket.
I miss you Ed.

Anyway, I've got assloads of stuff to make up and this term is just winding down, so I promise nothing, unless one of you wants to do my homework.
Anyway, here are some links to keep you occupied so you get off of my ass.

The girl from the commerical, buck ass naked.
Jessica Simpson is a fat, spoiled dog.
The Scrotal Safety Commission
Every Nintendo game your geeky heart could desire.
How to drink like a real college student.
That's one hell of a human error.
I'm all for god, but when you bring Sir Mix Alot into things, you've gone too far. This makes baby jesus, and big ass fans alike, cry.