I feel another pisces weekend coming on...

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happy birthday mikel baby. . Tomorrow, I am off to radical queer semaine & art show, & then to this beefcake's birthday party. can't wait. he's the one that drew out the burlesque in me I never knew existed. yess.

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things people, things. after previously putting on my 'reporters hat' I am back in action blog-wise. I need to get more graphic, though I prefer to yield a pen, but perhaps a workshop with the ginger coons will do the trick for the next couple of posts. wait and see.

I feel like I am going to be learning about a lot of webliness and image/layout trickery in the next couple weeks. I do not want to reveal the reason for this strong sentiment but fingers are crossed behind my back that the couple of pints are in my favor tonight. (ohh. mystere.)

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(On that note, let it be known that I would like to be taken at no-fuck face value. please stop asking about my status.)

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finally. I have been staring at the size 3-6 baby "veggie kid" lap-t for so long my eyes are beginning to cross. two out of three co-workers agree that 'fuck that' best describes what my future course of action should entail...

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no, this is the real finally:

bars: when the fuck are you getting out here? bass: I have been looking at your pictures online for ages and you are wonderful. belford: where the heck are you, bro? st. laurent? call a lady up. budyk: how is south america? pape: I am coming to BC to protest the olympics. I assume I can crash. golden vilar: when the fuck are YOU getting out here? (we have a show in Avril, peut-etre) madge: still haven't put the letter in the mail, excuse me, it will come. red: telephone tag just isn't the same. I miss you. we need wine soon. jj: the hottest girl I have ever blown kisses to from a metro.

all the rest: bonne nuit. Loco.