Okay, so I'm watching the magic of Truffaut unfold before my eyes last night, when BAM! The fucking ground started shaking like a kid with epilepsy. My first thought was that a bomb had gone off, but it slowly dawned on me what had happened...the Earth's Tectonic Plates were shifting under my ass and there was not a damn thing I could do stop it. Thank goodness it was about brief as sex with my hand. What can I say my hand is pretty damn good. So after the tremor was over, I stepped outside to see two of my neighbors, who are both twenty-something wieners like me, outside with a WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT look on their faces. I said "Earthquake?" And the squirrelly one said "Fuck yeah! That was my first one!" It was like he had just had a girl let him finger her for the first time. Awesome.
On the subject of neighbors...I have been here a bit and not one of my neighbors in my fancy shmancy apartment complex of 12 units has said a single word to me or bothered to acknowledge my existence except for Squirrelly. Los Angeles is alot different than Oklahoma.
Which gives me an idea for my next post: You don't anything about me yet. I say that as if somebody is actually reading this blog, but I guess I'm not really writing it for you am I?
Seacrest out.
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