Music:crown me king feat. admiral ackbar- "its a trap!"
fuck this entry.
anxiety. drink self into stupor. girl comes home & takes care of me. its all a blur. we wake up on the floor of the living room, lines in our skin from the hardwood slats. i dream about television. i'm even worried that my plants died. i wake myself up by hyperventilating. blah, blah, blah. i am consoled by thoughts of an amphibian who commands the fleets of the rebellion. new plan. drinking alone while jenny is at work is too full of fifties era housewife irony. so quit it, you fucking fuck. i.e. why does it look like the pope's face is melting? (no i don't remember what i said, no i don't want to know, no i don't want to go home, yes i am afraid. yes, i am invincible.) so here is to today being a bit more exotic bird plumage. (cheers. hahahahaha oh man)