« From the bottom of my boogidy, boogidy, boogidy shoop »
2004-03-22 · 1:35 p.m.

It is absolutely my new resolution to learn how to dance the Bodie Green. Reading Crackpot: the Obsessions of John Waters is uplifting, inspiring, and transcendant, much like a religious experience, like seeing a vision of the Baby Mother Mary in a lush wooded glade somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. But unlike most hallucinogenic visions, you don't need to be on psychosis-promoting drugs to get the same sort of feeling from John Waters. Renting "Pink Flamingos" is probably cheaper than most drugs and packs double the punch.

I hope Britney Spears puts out a cover version of either Frankie Avalon's "Venus" or "A Teenager in Love" ("Each night I ask the stars up above/Why must I be a teenager in love?"), with plenting of gyrating and stripping in the video of course. I'm banking on a version of "I'm Gonna Bang Your Box" by my favorite doo wop band, the Bangers, as the runner-up in the cover-version deathmatch. I would die of bliss if Aaron Carter and Hilary Duff collaborated on the revival of that forgotten (why?) gem. Ooh, solid gold!

If anyone were to buy me the motion-picture soundtrack to "Hairspray" I would also die. But I promise not to take you with me.

I was waiting in the local Starbucks today, waiting for my mother to come pick me up, and watching a girl sitting diagonally across the room from me as she stared straight ahead with a faint scowl on her face. Sometimes I think people condemn me as uncooth and rude because I people-watch relentlessly. I like imagining their little lives, though. For example, I imagined the starey-scowly girl in the Starbs was being stood up by her chemistry-professor-cum-secret-lover. We both got up to leave at the same time, although I had already made several coke addict-type dashes to the bathroom to steal toilet paper as makeshift Kleenex. I have a disgusting cold that is making my throat, nose, and ears ache and throb. I hope I have ebola or chicken-flu so I can pass it to all the people I hate in my school. While waiting in Starbucks (where I guessed the correct number of types of twin, winning a free coffee) I hoped to see my number-two boy fixation, a Uconn student who looks exactly like Adrien Brody. I smile everytime I see him but he has yet to realize our complete affinity and predestined eternal love. At least I'm not as male fixated as Katie, my mother's pseudo-secretary. I don't think she can go for longer than 15 seconds without mentioning some random person she finds attractive. It's the way some people are with heroin or murdering nurses.

« · »