another night at das chamber. was late, thanks to a certain swoony THG, but that's ok, i wasnt particularly caring.
psychocharger. my boys. played at the phantasy tonight, they made a special trip down to the chamber to say hi to me. i am a rock star yes yes. or something.
note: they need to go back to the saran wrap. its much more alluring. plain skivvies dont do it. but then, i'm a boxer fan anyway. jimmy shoots me a wink from the stage and i'm all "them's my boys." such talent they are. yay for the underground. fuck flickerstick.
bastards didn't stop by afterwards. was gonna get them shots. i will now be minutely angry. was kinda hoping to jaunt to dianna's and to the laBomblette.
suck in gut, try to look good while dispensing beer.
cautious steps i make now. my feet are sore from being stepped on, as well as that thing that, uh, circulates blood through my body. every nerve, every sense is extended beyond its reach. groundsniffing searching for temors. i cannothave my mighty fortress collapse. therefore, at the slightest sign of an earthquake, i will pack up my wagons and move to safer pastures.
listen - do you smell something?
for those of you that are bemused by the infamous clown nose picture, the full size image can be found here. en-fucking-joy.
i have a flag tattoo on my arm.
Saturday Night DJ (SND) actually complimented me on my promotional abilities tonight. of course, it was to smackdown something else, but hey- i was flattered nonetheless. its cool to see that perhaps i might have clout around here, finally.
long day ahead. tired. need kitties. beer enhancing my paranoia so i will not say more.
why am i so suspicious? why do i expect the worst?
cuz when it happens i'm not disappointed.