Water-logged and sepulchral weather looms over the eyes of Texas this afternoon. The temperature reads a murky 49 degrees. Humidity: 89%. The Barometer: 30.019 (steady). I’ve spent the greater part of the morning trodding through water to turn in a lease application for a dive on Tom Green’s boosh. Days like today make me realize how miserable I might be if I lived over a mile away from school (and 3205… and JP’s… and the crown). Never underestimate the power of a comfort zone.
props need to be given at this time:
rafi gets mad monkey props for deluxe scrabble
dave gets hula props for driving me around this morning
ivy gets kitty props for his spooning services
it is also worth mentioning that noah, the c&a bouncer, recieved props last night, but they have since been revoked. sorry, noah. you blew it.
And the beat goes on…
sometimes i feel like i don’t have a big boosh
sometiems i feel like my only hair
is the hair in my armpits, the hair on my head
but no hair in my banch, now that is a lie
i don’t ever wanna shave
like i did that day
take me to the boosh i love
grow it all the way
i don’t ever wanna shave
off my big black boosh
take me to the boosh i love
grow it all the way
(note: this is a work in progress)
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