Brand New Idea

SAo, this will be the first blog I’ve ever written completely shit faced. I am drunk on a combination of stuff, all of it lovely, and I’m at Ian and Tessa’s farm house with damn near twenty of my friends. God, it is good to see some of these people that I haven’t seen in a long time, Caroline, Anthony, Deb and Steve, it’s just wonderful.

I’m actually gfoing back and fixing tyupung mistakes that I make as I go, but I might not catch them all. I just tried to walk around Tan and Tessa’s bed and I banded the holy behjessus out of my leg on the foot board. I have to assume it’s called the foot board, if the thing at the top is called the head boartd.

There is, seriously, nothing you can do about any of this. I can puyblish a drunjk blog and you totally vcan’t stop me. Y’all aint got shit on me.

Is it pathetic that I would be drunk at this age? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I can tell you this, I really miss Ian and Tessa when I’m here and they’re not. Not so much the day to day, which is actually relatively easyu to maintain without instruction, but the conversation. They are lovely people. I went into the bathroom in their room, where I’m sleeping, and I saw a copy of the same cooking magazine that I have a subscription to. It made me so lonely for all of us being together, not that we don’t really have an ancestral homeland. We don’t have a place, all of us, to call home and we always have before, and I see Cook’s Corner, or some damn thing, I can’t think of it now, and It’s like we’re all family and love each other, in our own way.


We talked about Blogs tonight for quite some time. I can’t reallty worry about the group of friends I have that check this blog every once in a while. I’ mean, let’s be honest, this is all bullshit, and we all know it. I could tell you any number of things here and you really ought to discount it all as an exercise in creativity. Blogs are interesting more for what they are trying to be than for what they are. But that’s a conversation for a more sober time.

We talked about the blogs we read, about how awsesome it is that our generation goes nuts and reads each other’s blogs. My friend Anthony? I read his *girlfriend’s* blog, someone I relaly dfon’t know very well, but who I adore because of her writing. And a lot of people check this.

You know what? Screw you guys. Read this if you want, but know that I’m not a writer, I’m a liar and you shouldn’t trust a damn thing you read in here. I love the way Jordana looks at me when she reads my blog, it’s the same look she gets when I break dance. “Yes, yes, we’re all terribly impressed, but, you see, I know you, and I know what you let none of these people know.”

Okay, seriously? Jordana was getting ready in the bathroom and I farted, just a regular fart, but it sort of went up in tone at the very end and Jordana, wet head in towel, called out and said, “did you just ask me sopmething?” That is mother fucking comedy.

Man, I really broke the hell out of my leg on Ian’s goddam bed. Why the fuck do people need a head board *AT THE BOTTOM OF THEIR BED*? Hey, Sean Patreick, do *you* haVE A head board at the bottom of your goddam bed?

Man, white people got stuff I don’t understand.