meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shane is in town. All bets are off... Whatever you're doing now, up to and including reading this, STOP and go see "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". It is, um, really good. And I wished I was a Chinese monk who could fly and run up walls and kick ass with the martial arts and weaponry. And it totally would have been even cooler if it had been called "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Sandwich". I wish I could go to Wu-Tang Mountain. And tonight, I will be drunk and singing along in an unintelligible Irish accent, drinking a pint with Shane MacGowan at The Vic. As long as I don't get in a drunken football riot, I'll be ok I suppose. And I found someone to borrow a van from to obtain our new couches tomorrow. And my boss is in a good mood except she's at work instead of not, which bugs me. Not that I don't like her - she's cool - but I'd like to be able to leave around 3pm for quick napping time and then, infusion with strong drink and various illegalities before the show. I have something on the back of my hand that looks like dry skin, except it's just this one small patch, and it sorta looks like a small burn healing, but I've been looking at it, wondering if it was skin cancer but it hasn't really changed shape or color, so I'll prolly be alright. And I've had a song stuck in my head all morning, even though I haven't heard it in prolly a year, and I don't know the lyrics, but it's wailing away in here, and I don't even know who sings it. "Earth below us drifting falling floating weightless coming home...Earth below us drifting fallingfloating weightless coming home...Earth below us drifting falling floating weightless coming coming home...home..... 10:09 a.m. - 2001-03-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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