To celebrate our collective fabulousness and our shared interest in getting MARRIED ASAP!, Lucy, Katie and I devoted monday evening to watching Slutty, Dykey, Horsey & Prim: The Movie, and thanks a fucking bunch, HBO, because that is two hours and twenty minutes of my life I'll never get back again. And while we're on the subject, a belt over a bare midriff (I removed the picture for the sake of your sanity)? I
Freddie has shaved off his facial hair and now he's all ashamed and vulnerable and "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman" without it, but you know what? If waking up to that every day makes me a lesbian, then you can whack me in a strap-on, put on a Lindsay Lohan album and call me Ellen DeGeneres, because I'd still hit it.
Macbeth on saturday, Off Modern on thursday and F and I are going to see Supergrass tomorrow even though I don't really dig Supergrass (insert pun about them being "alright" here) because they are friends of his family. Yeah, that's right, we totally have connections with one of the twenty hottest bands of 1994. Don't hate the playas, man. Hate the game. Hate the game.