my stomach feels small and there's a taste in my mouth and it's no taste at all.

It's been a strange week.

Strange and amazing things I've seen:
1. Ed Hardy sweatpants (less strange and more vomit-worthy)
2. Ed Hardy lighters (see above)
3. A squirrel in my apartment
4. Projectile vomit on my front porch going in an upwards direction (probably from Ed Hardy paraphernalia)
5. Happiness (ie "Sure son, I'll measure your penis for you. I already roofied and ass raped your 12 year old friend. Why not?!")
6. Homeless man standing in the middle of the street making up lyrics to Miles Davis
7. Recent price reduction of Snuggies. I am seriously considering getting a leopard print one. The new commercials with an anthropomorphized dog in a Snuggie reading a book about himself have swayed me.
8. Doug Martsch in a Kurt Vonnegut shirt

Overall, beyond the strangeness, I've been bouncing between incredibly irritable (cursing at my shoes, keys, phone, etc.) and joyful. It's fucking cold, but I found out that I'm going to FUCKING LONDON in three months. I'm so excited to be immersed in film and music for a few months. And cheese toasties. That's really it - cheese toasties.

I like jeans.

Jean Pierre Leaud, in particular.