spaghetti

I posted some fun pictures on my blog that you may want to check out.
i need to admit something. i'm jealous of people younger than me that are successful. in a week i'll will be turning 24. orson wells beat me. bastard. you know who it is? it's the wellses, joe nuxalls, lebron jameses, etc.etc.etc. who kill me. i'm over it.
i'm drinking nestle hot cocoa. does a body good.
lately, i've been apatheic/cut to the heart (do the math on that one). i'm all set to either: move to spain, get a real job around here, do nothing and sub, sub and write, take a poop. all bets are on. 3:1 odds on the last one.
trying not a make out, get drunk, smoke, say 'f' words, talk about girls sex parts, and buy crap. thought it might be a good idea.
lola and sylvia meow all the time and eat food. they are boring. they nap. i will smart bomb them.
there is a wilco egg on the desk.
a cork too.
and a straw.
10:1 that on Thursday Super Jesse will appear and use his super cleaning powers to vanquish filth and restore order to the Bayou. Righting the Havoc that was wrecked by his cleaning arch-nemisis, me.
peace, ya'll.
eat some donuts for Princeton U.
and while you're at it smoke that corn cob like there's no tomorrow.
There really is, but don't tell anyone, ok, holmes?
OK?!

Times Square would like to wear underwear
but it's an imposible feat.
a square wouldn't dare
because it's not fair
to the people walking on its streets.
because they like to see its wee wee.
aka pee pee.
ah, what a special nyc treat!