remember when i drank an entire bottle of bourbon and tried to kill scorca? remember how he physically had to disarm me because i had a fucking knife?
what a time to be alive (or dead really) (i prefer my friends dead)
tomorrow i'll be driving to la. nobody likes to pack.
i'd like to confess that i'd been listening to michael cera's album true that. i mean, i'm fuckin into it.
ps. my secret life is steadily thriving.
pps. very excited for summer to pass, yes
