we watched barfly, and it did us absolutely no good. three trips to the ABC via bicycle for many bottles of cheap champagne, until we commence being both geniuses and astoundingly brilliant. dance party of two to kanye west, out the door weavingly; we climb the stairs of a hotel on san marco to outright ask some elderly tourists if we can hang out with them. kevin is only wearing swimming trunks and neon pink rimmed sunglasses shaped like triangles. our endevour to drink for free with the tourists is so sucessful that we stagger home so i can put on my "give me lots of cocaine" dress: the plan is to go out and get wasted on rich people's tabs. at kevin's i apply a fake tattoo of a panther lunging from out of a tribal design overtop my right breast, he puts on a button-down shirt and tie but keeps the trunks. then we take pictures of ourselves looking glamourous. then we get high and pass out instantaneously, curled together into a 4pm nap like preschoolers.
later, getting wasted for free unravels a bit, and kevin finds margo and aaron finds franny and kelly finds leah, and everyone's objectives are following straight trajectories, and so i sip the wine i discover next to the couch and page through an olympia press anthology. and wait for them to leave two by two. which they do.
yours, amanda L. at 3:22 PM [+]
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1. i'm trying Haloscan.
2. and i want to marry Blogger.
anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.
