Somehow, listening to Picture of Nectar makes me a.) feel redicously, deliriously, incredibly, obnoxiously freakin' happy b.)think of my little brother and c.) think of camp. And makes me incredi-happy. It was exactly what I needed after a terrible day yesterday that turned into a good night. Jim and I went to see Wedding Crashers last night. It was hilarious. Owen being pretty like a girl and Vince being, well, Vince. It's one of those movies that where you start giggling and you can't stop. Anyway, it was great. Go see it if you can. After the movie, went to Cactus Jacks for beers and cigs and coversation. All in all, a lovely evening that Jim (Jim #1) helped me dig out of the gutter.
Crazy ass shit going down in London today. Those crazy terrorists are going for the body. I feel like London is the skinny little geeky kid that the mean bully keeps picking on. If I may, I'd like to make a Breakfast Club analogy:
Skinny, proper. Doesn't like monkey business. Probably can't make a lamp, either.
Confident, competitive. If we lose our temper, you're totaled, man. Has extensive experience in taping people's buns together.
Smokes the wacky weed. Prone to lighting shoes on fire. Thinks being bad feels pretty good. Likes anarchy and Molly Ringwald.
It's a little scary actually. John Hughes either has an amazing amount of foresight or I'm just incredibored.
What a great birthday day! John Leguizamo, Mr. Willem Dafoe, Franka Potente AND Mr. Spade in America himself, David Spade. Love them cancer beeyotches!