hmm. two pm and i haven't gotten shit done today. day off, slept in, un-restful sleep. feel like puking. sick, not knocked up. angry because i was going to volunteer at a red sox game meaning i'd get in for free and spend most of the game being able to watch, which i never have, and it's the end of the season, but i feel like crawling into a hole and dying.
need to get food, need to send some money to this small school, try not to crap myself (starting a blog on a sick day=naming it after the possibility of foaming my pants)
need to actually put on underpants as i've a giant hole in the crotch of these jeans.
doing some medical tests for cash, un-ethical things for cash (robbing old people? it's crossed my mind), trying not to be a total bitch to everyone i encounter daily.
my friend coco is moving to brooklyn and i'm really bummed about it. that's her in the top right, purple glove. she rules. this is an article from a chinese issue of marie claire magazine about the boston derby dames...i believe. unless that's a total joke. either way, weird.
no, i'm not in this photo.
ok, gotta go out and get shit done. "errrr day" i'm hustlin'-which is a recurring joke with my most recent ex, captain morgan. yes, that's his real name. a tattoo artist with the legal name captain morgan. fast, heavy, weird fling. can you imagine? duh. my friend abby told me never to date a guy with a tattoo of a labia-faced woman. good advice.
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