i am having a massive fit of coveting. i need the portishead roseland nyc live on dvd. just the thought of that album in 5.1 surround sound practically makes me orgasm. shut up, you'd know what i'm talking about if you knew the album.
i've decided that i am an ub3r-g33k now. i just went through all the possible endings of myst III for the sheer hell of it.
i need a life.
waaaaaait...i have one.
just not at night, anymore.
stupid 1337 to english translator won't work to copy and paste into here. color me annoyed.
diet code red tastes pretty much exactly like regular code red. i'm amazed. and pleased. for i got a 12 pack of code red from my mother the other day, and i don't want to drink the regular pepsi i have because it makes me burp up a storm. appetizing, no? so i'm down to the diet code red, which, due to its decent taste, is disappearing quickly.
not much else to report around here. i got to file a police report the other day. that was exciting. or something. some fuckass at my work stole $160 out of my purse last thursday, so i called the cops and reported it. janice, my boss, who rocks, said she's gotten some information on it and she's going to call the cops and tell them tomorrow/today. so that's good. and my friend dan got hit by a car while on his bike last week. he thought his wrist might be broken. which is never good. however, with dan, everything's kind of comical. especially when he IMs me out of the blue with the message "i got hit by a car!".
crackass.
gas station, store, bed...GO!
kate out.
ps: g.g. allen doesn't seem to have been that offensive, if you ask me. though i wouldn't like the feces throwing bit much.
