I'm completely alone at a table of friends. I feel nothing for them.

Title Source: Bright Eyes "Hit The Switch"

A little blerb from something I've been trying to write:

Strike while the iron is hot
But your heart is so stone cold
Vicious smile and razor eyes
You make anecdotes out of lies

You're every worn down cliché
Cut deep down to the bone
Each with a new cunning twist
Of sheets, you get my drift

Every configuration is a new sensation
A brand new fable to spill
Your conflagration breeds my accusation
Sell you out, you know I will


Kind of shit, yeah? Oh well. Updating, just for Kylie, because she's been asking for it. Note: I hate school.


"Dude... For a second, I thought my pants had pockets."

"I made 900 dollars yesterday. SENSE OF ACCOMPLISHMENT!"
"Jesus Christ. I only got whistled at."
"...Not like that."
"I know the truth. You're a prostitute... An expensive one."
"Oh golly gee, ya got me."
"And as your pimp, I demand my cut."
"AHAHAHA no."
"My cut isn't money, babe."

"I don't even know how to begin pronouncing your name."
"It's Welsh. I'm not surprised."

"We dated?"
"We did."
"I missed this."
"Don't worry. So did I. It was news to me when I found out."

"Wait... you're really tall, aren't you? Like seven foot twenty?"

"I am not short! I am above average height for a woman! Thank you very much."
"You're 5'6"?"
"No, 5'5. Average height is 5'3."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Shit, I'm tall."

[sarcastic laughter] "Oh, you're funny."
"I know. I make goths laugh."

"There is no boy. I've been calling out to my soul mate. He's not answering. Typical men."
"Is that like 'there is no spoon'?"