Listening to: “I’m Still Your Fag” – Broken Social Scene
Ugh. I don’t know if keeping a blog is the best thing for me. Might lead to further introspection, and Furry Bleeding Jesus in a Bucket knows I’ve already got that coming out my eyeballs. But it’s a noble experiment of sorts, so I’ll give it a go. What the fuck.
In any case, they say the best thing for a person with writer’s block to do is to…write. Anything. So here it is. Anything. I’ve got to write some Dig This award pimp blurbs plus a review for the Dig tonight (okay, make that negative 12 hours ago…) and another bloody review for the Herald tomorrow. Plus, I’ve got to interview these kids. Favor for a friend. I’m shit with kids.
Carried Tucker’s poop in a sandwich bag for at least four blocks before I found a dumpster. After awhile, the warm air rising off it started to warm my hand. Disgustingly pleasant.
Right now, I’m drinking James’ jug wine. Chianti this time. It’s usually Merlot. It tastes like candy, and it’s burning my tongue.
Ain’t this a great picture? Found it on DeviantArt… my new procrastination zone. Should make some art myself, one of these days.
*Sips shitty wine*