doin whatevah the fuck I mari-wanna

He said something like, "just dive right in, and trust me, because that's what I'm doing." I think it was a DTR (determine the relationship) we had last night, and we established there would be no dating of other people, and that he'd be around. He says he's never had a girl who introduced him to guys she knew, or who didn't get tired of kisses, or who took any kind of care of him (i.e., I got the waitress to give him a refill without him asking).

Seems to me we both have spent a lot of time dating people who were more trouble than they were worth.

But today Tylere is coming, and so Joe and I will enjoy a respite.

Happy Birthday Jon Meek.

There's a man, living in Chicago, who wishes he were dead. I've seen him. His turtle neck and his headphones were distinctive. Moises Alou is a bit too professional to kill this man who is in Chicago, but he would perhaps have been better off dead yesterday afternoon. All the blame can't be put on his doomed head, though: there was that error.

It should have been a goddam double play.

Scrubbing the house down, finishing up homework, awaiting the Hott One.

Oh, Joe taught himself how to send text messages today so he could "let me know he's thinking about me". I text page all the time (blankwave & asitwere know) so this makes me smile.