Friday, May 23, 2008

Bitchin' Camaro, Bitchin' Camaro


This is the 2008 Camaro.

Nicely done.

Today was ridiculous.

We picked out cabinets, bamboo floor, a granite slab for the counters, a killer gas range, a frig, a dishwasher, a hood (at that point, I was like, "I need a hood? O.K. Whatever you say. Here's my credit card. Get me the fuck out of here.), re-designed the kitchen...

My friend Ross is doing the remodel. He is so goddamned smooth and good. His people are going to be in the house ten minutes after we close, tearing shit out. He lined up the whole project today and it was impressive to watch.

In a weird way, it reminded me of the day, a few years ago, when I went to LA and watched my sister Liz do her job for a couple hours. I came away so impressed withe her because she had this skill set that I had never seen. (She works for movie studios, and is a "media buyer," which means she handles the advertising budget for each movie. i.e. Julia Roberts = Oprah and Bruce Willis = Sportcenter.) Her phone rang 100 times in two hours. She was schmoozing one guy, putting him on hold and being a powerbitch to the next guy, wielding millions of dollars.

It was impressive, and so was Ross.

My new house is going to be suh-weet.

The word I have been using most is "tits."

It's totally gonna be tits, dudes.

Maybe I'll park a bitchin' Camaro in front of my totally tits house.

The tiniest blittle dot caught my eye and it turned out to be a scab and i had this funny feeling like I just knew it's something bad

I just couldn't leave it alone.

Picking at this scab.

It was a doorway trying to seal itself shut,

But I climbed through

No, I'm somewhere I am not supposed to be

And I can see things I know I really shouldn't see

And know why...

Now I know why

Things aren't as pretty on the inside