whittle update

i don’t know if anyone watched last week’s episode of gossip girl… considering who my friends are, i would say 50-50 of you out there did, but only 1% would admit it. anyway, i fuckin did because i love crazy rich kids from new york and i wish i were one. and by god there was a cheesy indie cover of t.i.’s whatever you like and it blew my fuckin mind away. it was also during the threesome scene. yay gossip girl… first girl on girl kiss? let there be more to come. anyway, the song, it’s by this faceless chick called anya marina who will either get huge for this, or fall into oblivion, but you can download the song here.

other things: today, after work, i was smoking outside and talking to R. and the strangest, LOUDEST noise started to happen. yes, this sound happened. it was like someone trying to whistle but coming up with like an endless ooooooooooooooooooh sound. then i start noticing the sound comes from R.’s bag and it’s her technology making these noises because it doesn’t like to be tipped on its side. R.’s pussy whipped by her computer. moral of the story: fuck PCs.

due to my recent re-obsession with buffy and angel comics, which i am completely caught up with and now i have to wait until DECEMBER for one measly issue of the comic, i have returned to my unhealthy habit of reading buffy fanfiction. not good, not good. i spend hours reading this mindless worse-than-a-stephanie-meyers-written stories. which is a feat in itself, because writing like stephanie meyers literally includes being blindfolded and elbowing a keyboard, straight to publishing. but fanfiction makes me happy. in other news, what is homework?

i missed an exam last friday, so i was bummed and i didn’t write. after indulging in self hating for a while, i am back to write boring things about my every day life in paris, which include:

complaining about the complete lack of gay scene here, for people under 35ish; complaining about the crapfest of this city’s public transportation; getting yelled at by F. for not having (and not wanting) a bike; going to several head doctor’s appointments; being rejected by every job in the world; again, complaining about the absolute lack of queerness paris seems to be drowning in.

my mother is coming in 36 odd days. I AM PEEING MY PANTS.

in the next episode of “how i met my mother”: hilarious tidbits about my mother and how much she kicks ass (that last part should be read in your head like a shriek from one of them metal bands in the 80s).

this is kind of what’s going on outside. its humid and hot for november. 16celsius today! suck it northampton.