Welp.
My carpenter Emet is bumpin his gums to indicate we are nearing completion. He is one exit from Funkytown, and his helper Mr. Toolbelt is doing jazz hands. If I ask them to do one more tiny motherfucking thang, I sense I might experience a blast of disco inferno so fierce not even the afterhours queens have beared witness. But we gotta touch up the fuck ups before I pay up. Oh yes. Then! Then even I will dance.
Anyways, I really need to get the house back in order. ChaCha is having a sucky childhood. And we all miss Chris TURRUBLE!!!
Going to the Yuppie Tombs uptown to take my girl on a DATE tonight. We are going to see The Devil Wears Prada. Seen it? Should I bring my Ipod?
BAH! Maybe next week I will have a life.
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