Orange
08.23.05 (5:23 pm) [edit]Jenny had a VERY orange shirt on yesterday. It was so orange that...uh...orange...peel...juicy...here, let me help you peel that off...
Fuck the shirt. I don't care what color the shirt is. Maybe when it's OUT OF MY WAY, I'll say "Hey, look there on the floor! Your shirt! It's orange! It's...oh, who gives a fuck, let's eat."
Today's shirt was white. But she also had her hair down again. Which DESTROYS me. Wow.
Have you ever noticed that when you buy a guitar (I got a cheap acoustic a few months back and just changed the strings last night) that the strings that are on it are SHIT? This is a plot from music stores, I think.
"Look, Don! A set of strings from 1967! My Uncle Dick played these five nights a week for over thirty years! He sweated like a bastard! Spilled beer on them at least twice a night! He took them off last month and flushed them down the toilet, but they came back up! He fished them out, buried them in the backyard under the bodies, and last night I dug 'em back up! Dropped them in the catbox, but I just cleaned them off with some gravy, and they're ready to go! Let's put 'em on that shitty acoustic out there!"
Real Time With Bill Maher is back on the air and I don't have HBO. I barely have TV, for that matter. Fuckity.
I have nothing else worth saying.
Goodnight,
Dougie