Oh, so my friend J’s boyfriend is the rockabilly boy from my dorm, and he happens to be a friend of the infamous Mr. Unequal Ex, who doesn’t show. Hello, girl from J's party, oh dear, you have a story similar to mine and UE’s, and it’s about you… and my best friend’s roommate? Heavens. Going to have to talk to my friend about that. Speaking of my best friend, he’s not here, but a good friend of his ex-girlfriend’s is, as is the person who was RA the year before him in that house. Speaking of that house, I run into someone who lived there with my ex-boyfriend, and I agree with his use of the phrase “and it took 16 federal agents to finally restrain him” when it comes to describing his future. Oh, and hello, odd fellow, hope you didn’t mind my allusion to my good friend’s ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend, but I just happened to find out about that after you got mildly famous locally. Then I point out the boy I made out with once when he was a prospie to my friend J, and lo and behold, she informs me that they made out once also, and he’s gay now. Isn't that always the way? Say, young fellow with four names, hitting on me quite severely, inviting me to frisbee parties, weren’t you just making out on the dance floor with the girl from above who shares a story with me? Combine this with the fact that J and I both wore my pink bobbed wig last night, causing someone to cry that it was like he'd just met four people instead of two, and it was a very odd night at the Hideout.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
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