sirilyan�dotcom > ( Personal | Articles | Links | Email ) | sirilyan�dotcom |
sirilyan.diaryland.com > ( Latest�entry | Archive | Profile ) |
But wait, there's more. There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there? Join codebastards, I dare you. Remember, codebastards are us. I'm baded and jitter. So are these people. (And why not follow the previous, next, or random links?) Need a band name? |
rant is where the heart is
diaryland:
sirilyan.diaryland.com:
entry for 2000-08-03 (15:54:55)
In which our plucky young hero never sends postcards to his friends.
It's Vancouver, and I'm hearing the steam clock sing and standing next to it is someone I care deeply about. Later we'll miss a turn, and not get to take a picture on a beach.
It's Toronto, and we're singing in the cold in front of a palace. Pedestrians wonder why we're not the usual crowd for the place, and why we're singing, and most importantly why the idiot who can't sing, nonetheless is.
It's Austin, and as I pass through the door of my hotel room the temperature goes from 110 degrees Fahrenheit to 50 degrees, and I swear I can feel the sweat on my arms crystallizing at the temperature interval.
It's somewhere in New Jersey, and we're not going to Cheesequake.
It's Manhattan, and I've decided to catch a taxi back to LGA, and the cabbie who picks me up has an actual goddamn Brooklyn accent. But he still doesn't believe that in a parliamentary system, Ross Perot would have held the balance of power in 1992.
It's Chicago, and I'm told I was really drunk.
It's Fort Collins, and I can't tell which building it is.
It's Edmonton, and she's the most beautiful waitress I've ever seen.
It's Saskatoon, and I really want to be out of this city. Anywhere listed above will do. (Browse: previous or next. Notes: post or read.)
sirilyan.diaryland.com | sirilyan dotcom
anything said in lowercase sounds profound. say it to me.