first:

if this mp3 player randomly plays "on & on & on" by abba one more time, i am going to do something rash.

ok, probably not since it's not my computer, but still.

i mean, if i am going to listen to abba, it's going to be dancing queen or waterloo or fernando. preferably the first or the third.

BUT THAT'S IT.

i'm not muriel god damn it, i don't care to hear their whole fucking catalogue.

speaking of that director, though, i kinda wish i was one of those drag doods from priscilla queen of the desert. preferably the one who wears all those awesome clothes.

that one dood.

drag dood.

was that even the same director? i don't know. they were both australian films and there's like, what, 3 directors in australia? there can't be that many, it's like kangaroos and koala bears and those three drag doods and like three directors in australia, right?*

it's not brain science, i have probability on my side people.**

*any readers from australia, if i have any (or rather, had any), you have my heartfelt apologies for not knowing anything about your continent or culture or directors or anything besides toni collette was in muriel's wedding and liked abba a lot and that there were drag doods in priscilla queen of the desert.

i'm sure you understand, though, i'm american!

**professor mancosu, you have my sincerest apologies for kinda not remembering anything from probability and induction.

hearts@!

second:

if i am going to be pressed on the matter, and seriously, who hasn't been pressed on this matter?, i am going to have to say that the "female" version (as it's called on my ep/cd single thingie majigger) of luna and laetitia sadier covering "bonnie and clyde" is my very favorite, maybe even more than the serge gainsbourg version.

i know! blaspheme!!

third:

i need a new pair of shoes, stat.

i realized this when i was packing stuff for this weekend and noticed i only had my awesome slippers and then like 2 pairs of work shoes and they aren't cool at all.

thing is, i might have to burn my beautiful lovely sexy painting slippers. they smell so badly.

on the real.

on the, as sebastian bach says in mtv's awesome cribs segment with him, MOTHERTRUCKIN' REAL.

someone help?

i need to somehow clean out the funk. i love these shoes, but they are so triple dipped funkedified, it's timothy leary and groucho marx on acid unreal. meaning if you smell them you will instantly be sent into an evil psychedelic trip that wouldn't be like that awesome time i had that one day when i skipped class in high school and instead of going to classes i spent it listening to music and laughing for six hours while playing video games and chain smoking cigarettes and drinking freshly made lemonade and realizing that, yes, we are all, every sentient being on earth (and maybe otherwise, who knows i was in high school, right?) spiritually connected if only by super mario brothers, then falling asleep while watching aladin with the sound off and the cocteau twins on before waking up that evening and going to a show, i think it was fifteen at the good ol' vampire lounge (ha ha! vampire lounge!!), easily onf of the best days of my teen years. oh no, if you smell my slippers you wouldn't have an awesome trip like that but rather, you would be sent on a trip which would be like what must it have been like for that dood that everyone hears about who like, was at a dead show and got on the bad side of some hippie doods by ripping their asses apart in a cut-throat tail gate party hackey competition of death which really sent them on a huge bummer and got all their hemp panties in about a thousand bunches, so they made him touch that huge football-sized rock of crystalized LSD and for the rest of his young life he thought he was a glass of orange juice and couldn't move because he was afraid he would tip over and die, the contents of his orange juiceness spilled out across the floor or maybe like that dood who was in that one video i watched in ninth grade that actually did its job and scared me from EVER EVER doing ecstacy by showing this guy who was all racked up and in the hospital on this anti-psychotic medication, but the shit thing is that when he was on the medication he thought that he was covered by snakes and when he wasn't on the medication he thought that he was on fire which really sucked for him because neither was true.

what was i even talking about?

oh yeah, my slippers

what i am trying to get at is that they stink so mothertruckin' bad that when i took them off finally, after driving home from chicago, having worn them pretty much the whole weekend without reprieve, i had to throw them across the basement.

i know, right?! GROSS!!

the cool thing about that, though, is that they landed by the little room that's under the stairs which is where i am pretty sure the devil lives, which, if that's true, totally rules because having smelled my slippers he is either a)dead or b)thinks he's on fire or thinks he's covered with snakes or thinks he's a big glass of water but any which way (but loose), is good for me because he probably is so debilitated that he will not bother me.

not that he ever has, and not that i even BELIEVE in the devil because i was raised jewish and we were you know, clever enough not to believe in hell or the devil which rules, and besides lauren says that's where he has his dance parties a'la dance party USA, but still, i have yet to step foot into that room.

i have yet to pick up my slippers again either, so seriously, help. tips. brand names. priests for an exorcist.

ANYTHING PEOPLE.

fourth: