June 25, 2005


I am in Brooklyn, against all odds, against the connective wills of Buddha, Allah, Jesus and Phil Collins, I have arrived, I have landed, I am sitting in the apartment of my girl-souljah#1, cowboy-poodler = Ill Shepdini. J Shep who, despite being in the shower right now, is laughing loudly, in fits, like Dave Chapelle is perched on the toilet monolguing to her while she rinses out her shampoo.*

Everything broke in the last 2 days: I feel like I should just get business cards made up that say "Sisyphus". It all involves 11 extra magazine pages, the two most bogglingly-thorough TSA security wandings of my crotch ever, Miles' laptop with layout on it that will not boot up, almost crying in exasperation at the Northwest ticket counter at O'hare at 8am, a new hatred for Tony Hawk that is extreme enough that I threw his McDonalds billboard the finger on the BQE and gagging on my own vomit in the cab.

If yr around, or if yr going: We're going to New Pornagraphers et Stars in zeee park, then to see Bella Lea at North Six.

(* she was laughing at the free sample of Alan Cumming's new cologne-scenet and bodywash, which he roomate got and put in the shower. The bottle reads: "Cumming: The Fragrance".)

Posted by Jessica at June 25, 2005 03:54 PM | TrackBack