One of these clever girls will be tattooed on Ian Fischer in less than twelve hours.
I love drawing tattoos for people. I love going with friends to get tattoos.
Endless Mike and the Beagle Club were fantastic. They played my favorite song, This Machine Kills Pacifists.
I ended up grabbing a gallon of minute maid fruit punch from giant with Alex after the show, so much for breaking my juice habit.
I am a juice fiend.
No sleepy Bepstein quotes tonight, Randi and I scared him off with old injury stories. Speaking of which, I remembered a pretty crucial story which I hadn't thought of in a while.
So, homecoming night sophmore year of highschool I'm hanging out with James Andrew Hering (Andy) in my basement. He's playing with this big ol' knife. I gesture to him to stop messing around.
He slices off the tip of my left index finger.
True story,
we spend several hours in the emergency room stitching my finger back on.
We end up at the dance a few hours late and everyone sees this huge bandage on my finger and grabs at it.
Homecoming '02, what a night.
How do you forget shit like that? Thats the kind of story you could tell everyday for the rest of your life, and maybe I will now that I remember.
Obama traffic better not fuck up my day tomorrow.
I love drawing tattoos for people. I love going with friends to get tattoos.
Endless Mike and the Beagle Club were fantastic. They played my favorite song, This Machine Kills Pacifists.
I ended up grabbing a gallon of minute maid fruit punch from giant with Alex after the show, so much for breaking my juice habit.
I am a juice fiend.
No sleepy Bepstein quotes tonight, Randi and I scared him off with old injury stories. Speaking of which, I remembered a pretty crucial story which I hadn't thought of in a while.
So, homecoming night sophmore year of highschool I'm hanging out with James Andrew Hering (Andy) in my basement. He's playing with this big ol' knife. I gesture to him to stop messing around.
He slices off the tip of my left index finger.
True story,
we spend several hours in the emergency room stitching my finger back on.
We end up at the dance a few hours late and everyone sees this huge bandage on my finger and grabs at it.
Homecoming '02, what a night.
How do you forget shit like that? Thats the kind of story you could tell everyday for the rest of your life, and maybe I will now that I remember.
Obama traffic better not fuck up my day tomorrow.
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