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My daddy took us into D.C. today, and it was so beautiful. He spouted off all of his brilliant daddy-like genius about the government and such. Hell, he ran two miles in under 15 minutes practically to find us at one point. We filmed everything we could, and I think Michi's videotape of Stafford is finally finished. We watched it all, in it's entire glory, tonight with Gracie girl over Triscut pizzas and barbeque wings. I am going to miss Mich, even though I have to give her back to Florida now. I can't believe how long it's been. I really just can't at all. I am far away from everyone I'm close to, either physically or by some other incredibly strange barrier. I really think I can make that comment stretch to fit everyone I love. We got home tonight around 1130, because we were rebels. I wanted more than anything to dye my hair something something something, but Michi won't let me because she likes it the way it is. I am terribly bored though, with it, so I am thinking of cutting or some such. Who knows. It didn't matter though, because we got a lovely call from Quentin. He decided to be cool for once in his life and meet Michi. Eric hung about with us and they wrote a beautiful song for Michi, that turned out to be a twenty-odd minute rant about how large TJ's penis was. We stole a drumstick from the wall, neither or them know it... perhaps they will discover it one day, but once they do; it will already be safely tucked away in Michele's Florida home. Sometimes I really want my Florida home back. I never realized that I sang underneath my breathe until tonight. We've much to do, and little time. Good night, loveys. --alx. Post a comment in response: |
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