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emails between me & my dad today =
skippy: teri hatcher’s dog is so much fluffier than brother henri
Bobby Huntington: Skippy, the brown and white dog isn't a King Charles is it? If it is, that ain't all hair. That dog is a porker. Henry has some cool feathering. Particularly his tail. His lack of fluff keeps him aerodynamic. That little punk can fly. He gets going so fast in the hallway upstairs you swear he'll go right through Chris's front window someday. He's got the wheels but thank god he's got the brakes.
why is it chris-MISS when you're talking but
chris-MUSS when you're singing?
he had a party
and nobody came
the next day was sunday
went on all the same
he wasn't too ugly
old folks said he's cute
brown faced & round
thick glasses played flute
light in the loafers
with wrists giggly limp
whistling & clumsy
a daydreaming wimp
he sent out the invites
they said they'd all come
his mother bought streamers
and drank all the rum
it's been 2 years since holden ripped open in the backyard & a couple days later nacho OD'd on 300+ advil
make this year your best, ready go!
read the blurbs & vote for lot dawg here!
turns out i went to the wrong club saturday night! i thought i was at the roxy. tea leaf green was playing next door at the roxy. i was at the key club. where the kottonmouth kings were playing. i don't know why my tlg ticket was accepted at the door. i don't know why i didn't look at the name of the venue i was entering.
i know why i missed biscuits, i know why i missed friends.
3.5 hrs drive in painful slick traffic rain
3 opening 'bands'
kottonmouth kings blasting loud screaming
packed with baggy black & white & sideways hats
guys next to me take jager shot jager shot jager shot jager shot whiskey drink
turn to fired up drunk steaknecks
throws beer bottle on the ground
shard cuts his hand & arm
shard cuts my hand
waving swinging punching blood on me
black shirt flashlight security roughed up kicked out yelling
1130 kottonmouth kings still on stage screaming LA WHERE YOUR WEED AT
whose blood on my sweater, whose blood on my pink wristband
i'm getting the fuck out of here
i missed biscuits, i missed friends
i don't care
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