Goldschlager fucked up our golden boy, B Jen, if you wanna know the truth. With Candice in the next room, trying, in vain, to fall asleep, Ben and I continued drinking the golden ambrosia, cider jack and rum. Just a minute after I got out of the bed I returned to find him becoming one with his intestines. It was hysterical because he was so horrified and embarrassed. I actually cleaned a lot of the puke while he showered, which should say something, because I'm so not about that.

Speaking of puke, I threw up 5 times in the shower the morning before I left. Snarf + puke = good times. The kicker? The shower was slightly clogged, so I was literally standing in a pool of vomit.

Just another tasty treat from your friend at vignette.org.

In a while we'll begin a 170 mile journey to Chico Calif. to go to a rave. I have ticket #4,431. Isn't that beautiful?

Take care tonight, everyone, and please avoid resolutions. No more bullshit than necessary this year.