wickedflea | (no subject)

I CAN SMELL THE WOMAN DOWNSTAIRS FROM UP HERE ON THE BALCONY. Whatever fragrance she's wearing, that is--not her natural she-musk, thank dog. But still, it smells like she spent the morning wallering in the floor at a Patchouli Hut. PEOPLE WHO WEAR OVERPOWERING FRAGRANCES ARE A STENCH IN THE NOSTRILS OF GOD.

They're having the carpet replaced in here. We're finally getting rid of this horrid orange, and it's after I'm leaving. I wonder if I should take offense at that. Oh well. The new color is going to be Motley Brown. Didn't I used to be in a band with that dude?

I'm thinking about trading in for a pickup truck when I move back south. Yes, I want to do the whole down-home schtick up to the hilt. I might even put a gun rack in it. Naw, really I've missed my trusty old red truck ever since I got my Protege in '99. I mean, I've loved my car, and it's been wonderful to have a ride with a/c and a working stereo, but somehow I really liked having a truck. Yap, I'mma git me a good pickup and find me a woman to ride shotgun and hold my spit cup, and I'll be on like a pot of neckbones. And I'm gonna ride around listening to Black Sabbath and I'm gonna LIKE it.

Oh man. This is not a joke. When I clicked on the "Stones deny Richards suffered brain damage" link and saw the "continues to improve" part of the deck below, I thought for a split second it said something like "impossible to prove." Like, really, how would you KNOW? Would he start talking coherently and walking upright?

I know, that's terrible, and I'm going to rot in hell along with all the fun people.