and please sir, make it whiskey. I have no head for wine.

[thejunipertree]

Bottle of wine + Tara = giddy and giggly beyond belief.

I'm a little drunk right now. I've been drinking this wine since I came home from work around nine. And fiddling with my crystal wine glass, making it sing to me. And listening to Nick Cave.
I really want to turn it up way loud and dance around the living room, but I don't think my brother and the people who live above us would appreciate it all that much.

AND IT'S INTO THE SHAME
AND IT'S INTO THE GUILT
AND IT'S INTO THE FUCKING FRAY
AND THE WALLS RAN RED AROUND ME
A WARM ARTERIAL SPRAY

hee!



And I just managed to spill wine all down my front. I am the embodiment of grace, I think.

This album, Henry's Dream, is probably my favorite from him. And such as it goes, I constantly lose my copy of it. To the point of having to buy it several times. My first copy, which actually wasn't my copy at all but really belonged to tony_s got eaten by a dog. And then we put it in the microwave to see what would happen. Those were the days of LSD and roses, I reckon.


I should probably go to bed. I don't have many cigarettes left and if I stay up, I don't think they'll last me until tomorrow. I only have eight regular cigarettes and seven cloves, from the pack I bought with Joanna a few weeks ago. And I can't smoke seven cloves or I will DIE in a burst of death. My days of art school pretention smoking cloves like that are long behind me.

Ok. I sleep.

Oh wait. Brother, My Cup is Empty is playing. I have to stay up for that.

Must. Ignore. Volume. Button. ARGH.

Comments

[babyraven.livejournal.com]

That album fucking rocks. It is known.