I’m so hungover. I crashed my own house party last night.
I also got blackout drunk for the first time in months. I woke up in bed, fully clothed, jacketed and wearing shoes.
The house is a disaster and the cat is nowhere in sight. Solution? Pour another from the keg and watch Last Crusade.
Rockin’ On, April 1990. Puppy photo I scanned for my old blog. I think it’s from this issue. Blurry photos were taken that way, not due to scanner.
Anyway, seeing Nick Cave with a best friend Wednesday, so here are some clippings I’ve been hoarding!
Scanned by xraystyles.
My cat is sad because he played me a song he’d written about our 14 year friendship and I described it as “mediocre”.
They’re such good boys.
Punk Joker & Metal Scarecrow: Smile-X Villain Co.
Photo by me: ladyofthedreadfort
We’re nothing, and nothing will help us
Maybe we’re lying, then you better not stay
But we could be safer, just for one day
My roommate is having a massive birthday house party today (like 40+ people) and I’m just super uncomfortable with the way this is all panning out.
I feel like I’m OBLIGATED to be here, despite the fact that I hate house parties and won’t know any of the people attending. Kenton can’t stay because he has to run sound at the Beggar tonight because we desperately need the money (which seems to be an inconvenience to the host of the party, but sorry… eating next week takes a higher priority than your birthday) and now we’re being given this list of things to do before the party to get the house set up.
Am I in the wrong for being really uncomfortable with this? I didn’t suggest this party, it wasn’t my idea and if I didn’t feel like I was being pressganged into being here I would be doing something else with my Saturday.
Mostly I’m just really pissed.
Champagne Supernova by Oasis