I love my dead gay son!
◊ Oh man oh man oh man. I am watching Heathers and I just hit the scene with Christian Slater and Winona Ryder post-sex on the lawn and Slater is exposing his pale chest.
Oh. Oh oh oh. I want to scoop him out of the movie and run my fingers through his hair and gently slide my thumb across his lower lip and then ride him like something you would ride very, very hard.
That was articulate.
I bought a hat. It is a newsboy hat like the one I borrowed from my friend. Though it is certainly cool, it is not as cool as the borrowed one.
This is probably a good thing, since the hats are hanging together in the hallway and so much concentrated coolness in such a small space could be dangerous.
I wouldn't want to inadvertently usher in a new ice age by leaving two such copasetic items of millinery in close proximity.
Dude. I'm starving. I should shuffle on down to Safeway for canned soup and cigarettes.