1/10/2007
I'm legally high!
On my third cup of coffee right now, sitting downtown at the Taz, and filling out some serious government job applications. God, if I had known I could breeze through bureaucracy with the ease and carefree abandon I currently feel, I'd have mainlined Sumatran beans long ago. I wonder if one could snort ground expresso off a stripper's ass or would that be unseemly? So, yes, sending out resumes and jumping through hoops. I see pretty colors! Oh, shiny object! Cute young things walking by! My insanely huge iMix tunes! Coffee! Jobs! Heart murmur? Nervous twitching? Shake it off! Legal vices rule!
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7 comments:
hehehehe....that reminds me of when I was doing the same. Though the FBI couldn't see past the twitching. Yeah...pretty colors.
I tried to explain that the near empty 64oz cup of coffee was to blame. Damn them at Fast Trip for having it available.
Oh well, I'll just have to do something else to assist mankind.
Good luck on your job hunt. I know you'll get the one you want. Later babes.
Oh, that coffee buzz! How I miss it ... but I see warning signs ahead for you. One day, that 4th cup of coffee is going to bring on some mean acid reflux that will burn a causeway through your esophagus. You better stock up on the Prilosec, Sweetie, you are going to need it.
Love and kisses,
Mrs. Vivvy
You are always trying to kill my buzz, Mrs. Always! You never want me to ever be happy again and to never experience the joy that drugs bring! Why do you hate me so? I only want a little rush now and again, but you wish for me to suffer. I think perhaps you are slightly masochistic and I am now just noticing. You revel in my pain, do you not?? Call me! We'll do lunch and you'll do me! Bring V along to videotape!
Moi, trying to kill your buzz? Sweetie, I don't think anything can't get in the way of your buzz - from the latest post I see you are back in the booze saddle. Next you'll be telling me I pushed you over the edge with all my dreary pessimism. Well!
Vivvy and I were thrilled with your offer, though, she ran right out to dust off her Russian 8-mil camera. Visions of being compared with Orson Welles and other fabbo directors danced in her head.
Sweetie, I don't hate you - I'm not a masochist. I just didn't want to see you substitute one addiction for another. If anything, I care too, too much. Such is my lot in life.
Vivvy and I both love and adore you ... so much she hardly took note that you were going to "do me" over that lunch. See how kind we are? Generous to a fault.
Anywho, we'll talk, but you should have been there for my call last night - I was toasted and you KNOW how much fun I am in that condition. Now I'm cold, stone sober. What a bore!
Tah-tah! Mrs. Viv
P.S. Did you ever think I might be a bit jealous of you? Chew on that a bit.
Mrs. Viv
Jealous of your great beauty, that is.
Mrs. Viv
And here I thought it was my perky breasts that you coveted!
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