what is it about laundry anymore? i havn't had a drier that actually got my clothing dry since i stopped living at my mother's. while i was doing the undryable laundry, erica & nichole came over to keep me company. getting onto the plane i saw big dumb doug working on the fuel line or something. i don't like big dumb doug, for obvious reasons. but apparently glaring through those little tiny windows does not aid in the sight-line killing; because as far as i know, he still lives despite my thoughts of malice shot his way. i ended up getting a nice seat all to myself due to flight attendent mishap, & arrive to a sight worth seeing. once i flew over all the sandlots & baseball diamonds of brooklyn, past all the pill box boats scuttling for crabs, i got my jenny. we ate at dojo's & then saw x2. which is like, is magneto not the best snippy evil faggot of all time? wait, did i just see him & mystique giggling like school girls? then during sex i just couldn't stop thinking about a greenhouse. but a sexual greenhouse. i'm as confused as anyone.
it looks we're going to the subway inn, in mid-town, after jenny gets off work. its a really lovely hole in the wall, except on weekends when people actually go to it.