:: punchdrunk/lovesick ::

i wrote the words to this song on the back of a photograph, behind your back, it goes a little something like this...

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[::..archive..::]
january 2003.
december 2002.
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[::..the cool kids..::]
parking lot love.
passive affections.
riothero.
baldo's.
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[::..por los oidos..::]
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:: sunday, january 26 ::

listen: the get up kids "out of reach"
ha.
so clash of arms (the gabe/nick/christian/matt music-making apparatus) played a brilliant set tonight and anyone who wasn't there should feel very, very bad for themselves.
we got yelled at by the "angry hindu denny's man" for being there too much tonight. so we bought $30 worth of greasiness to spite him, although in retrospect i don't know if it really worked.
lizzie is always right. i love her for being able to reassure me of things. she should live in my pocket and be right all the time just for me.
everybody should come to our superbowl party tomorrow (today?). it's pirate wars, wine, and minimal athletic participation as usual, but with a novelty football helmet filled with salsa.
"butter knife."
"what? rocketman?"
:: mel p.'s genius at 02:32 [+] ::
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:: thursday, january 23 ::

listen: alkaline trio "sun dials"
ughhgmmf. i feel like shit. you'd think i'm going through menopause or something.
i cracked my head open on the kitchen floor to prove to you that i have brains, but you just shook your head and tossed me a dish towel.
:: mel p.'s genius at 04:05 [+] ::
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:: wednesday, january 22 ::

listen: ryan adams "cry on demand"
i spent the wee hours of yesterday morning not sleeping, but constantly trying to convince myself that i was/am making an intelligent decision for my (and others') future well-being. and that i didn't mind sleeping in a sauna, because i'm far too lazy to get out of bed to open the window.
i finally got to re-register for school this morning...pure crap. no film, no media, no theatre, no music theory. psychology 100, english 218 and 220 (but not w/ prof. graziano), and sociology 101. eh, i guess. i'll just spend all my time at the radio station, listening to emo and subjecting the student body to it as well.
night.
:: mel p.'s genius at 02:42 [+] ::
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:: monday, january 20 ::

listen: piebald "protagonist"
mark, josh, and poppy. falafel. mmm. cake. booze. yelling about fucking brian but not fucking johnny cupcakes. mark put the bottle away.
spak spelled 'coincidence' 'coincadence.' coin cadence. that sounds good.
:: mel p.'s genius at 01:16 [+] ::
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