Log in

No account? Create an account
User Profile
Chris' Journal

Below are the 1 most recent journal entries.


  2004.04.24  21.25
Abandon All Hope

So Saturday night was great. I finally went out, got stoned with skyluminaire and hung out at Cleo and Pike. And I danced with that girl whose name I was apparently supposed to remember. I'm still not entirely sure if I hooked up with her or not. I guess I'll find out some day...

Also that night, I was "pizza raped" by Devin, livalleygirl, and petitepirate. More on that later.

And yesterday, I had a busy day of opening the Underground and watching Titus (at the same time, no less), followed by the Radio Station meeting. And after that, I picked up my VIP, Theo.

I feel bad for all the rich kid jokes I made.

Yes, his father is loaded and drives a BMW, he sails, and he belongs to the Larchmont Yacht Club, but goddamnit, he's cool. Yes, I smoked up the pre-frosh. Moment of the evening: "Dude, we don't tell your dad about this, ok?" "Oh, totally not. Can I hit that?" Oh wait, no. Maybe the moment of the evening was when JACK SHOT CHAPPELLE ON 24. Who's at CTU to issue meaningless orders now??

Today it was gorgeous and Theo, "the gang," (The Bloods, West Sieeed) and I had lunch outside at the Bistro. And sweet Christ, was it good. Then, after Shakespeare on Film and my tearful parting with the coolest pre-frosh ever, I went to sit in the graveyard (I'm not emo, it was the only sunny place not overrun with people/dogs) and did the entire New York Times crossword by myself. Yes, you can touch me. After dinner, gym, and Erin time, I went and hosted my show, which went ok, I guess. But here's the important thing: I found a new band. Now here's the interactive portion of this entry: If you want to go to hell, click on the cut below. If, however, you fancy yourself to be a decent human being, (such as John) do NOT click. Seriously, There are some bastard things behind this cut. You will feel bad for months if you read it.

I'm on the highway to HellCollapse )

I have to go critique crappy poetry.

Mood: crazy