The Wee Democracy

eternal sunshine of the joshless mind

i went to the movies this afternoon, and saw eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, which was pretty fucking good. it helps that i'm in love with kate winslet, and that charlie kaufman wrote it, but besides that, there's just some real beauty to it. and the romantic parts are so sweet and honest. which, of course, depresses me.

i also saw a trailer for this movie called 'garden state' that was actually written and directed by JD from scrubs. it looked pretty good, really, and it had this really kickass song, which i've discovered is by a lady named imogene heap, aka, frou frou. its the song of the day, so if you want to give a nice fuck you to the record companies, download it.

sometimes, i don't mind going to the movies by myself. it's a common occurence, really, but i'd like to have a buddy. anyone interested?

today, i got the distinct impression, though, that i was being judged by a group of, i think, college kids....hooligans, really. i was trying to peacefully read the snows of kilimanjaro there, before the coming attractions...um, came, but their annoying and oh-so-smug banter was proving an insurmountable distraction from my book.

so i figured, why not write down what they're saying, and reprint the more embarassing details here. the one who stood out as the most annoying of the hellish triplets was a short lass, went by deborah.

evidently, deborah has a problem with people demeaning her stature, as is often called 'midget' by her cohorts, which usually results in a violent outburts, if today's excerpt from her life is any indicator. as one of her friends stated, after being given "two for flinching", apparently one of deborah's fav pastimes, "she's deborah...she makes good on threats like that". i'm guessing this proclivity for violence is what has lead to deborah's being admittedly single. she also laughs, it would seem, almost non stop, and has, i deduced, a problem with walking into drama and being unable to dodge the shit piles that club life can deal you, and thusly, refuses to attend clubs anymore. this, i believe, is a lie.

despite her status as an available, if not maddeningly giggly, young lady, she had been interested, i discovered, in a well dressed and quite handsome -- "freakin' hot" was the term, i believe, she used to describe this suave on the outside, cholo on the inside fella -- hispanic dude that went by alfredo. the factor that had sealed the deal on the attraction to alfredo was that he wore converse. lame, if you ask me, and certainly not a deal maker in the sexual sphere.

they lived in the same building, alfredo one floor below deborah, but never met, and the near silent courtship continued for a while, alfredo seeming to render deborah speechless with his good looks. tragically, in a decidedly humorous way for me, alfredo talked like a thug, and behaved like one, too. end of story.

so ends the tale of deborah and the failed beginnings of the deborah-alfredo era. fuck 'em anyway. she looked boring as hell, man.



feeling: mad.
thinking of: getting the fuck out of this city
song of the day: let go - frou frou
it's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown