party bus

was a huge success. thanks tim, sean, dustin, and amy for including me :)

cannot wait to see the pictures!!


me, ryan, and lindsey are talking about getting one for our birthdays!!
party bus, the spring edition coming sooooooooon!


c u guiz 2nite

omg !!

tucker is such a human. look at how he's sitting.

i'd do anything for you, give you the world if i could

people i've known for years still continue to blow my mind.






looking back at the last 3 years, and how many times i've been let down, it's seriously no wonder i've given up completely on dudes.

(for the record, i never thought i would say that, or feel that way)

if i tried to explain it, i wouldn't know where to start

i'm not sure why i complain so much on my blog, but not on livejournal. oh well.

being famous in the hardcore world means nothing in real life,
and i wish people would realize it.
klipa is like, a zombie now. thanks tui.

anyway, sidebar was amazing last night.
backhand set it fucking off.
and dirty money of course.

friday was a nice family dinner at don pablos.
me, lindsey, and sarah drank margaritas and got drunk.

saturday was a party in towson.
everyone got drunk and danny peed on me.


i spent a lot of money this weekend, so this week consists of a lot of nothing,
because the party bus is friday!!! and i need money. and according to sean, i will be being vomited on. greaaaat. let's see how many bodily fluids (from other people) i can get on me before january ends, hahahah.

you broke your body before i could get to you

why why why.
why does every boy i have dated since rob have some sort of radar when i might be happy or confused about another dude.
they must have this radar.
because they come in and fuck with my head everytime.
and everytime it ends up getting to me.



everyone knows who it comes back to, anyway.
what's the fucking point.



pretty sure i'm in the middle of a semi-serious bender. c u guiz when im done.

i lied my face off when i said that i would be okay

i hate you.
i hate you.
i hate you.
i hate you.


i still love you.


fuck it all.

i can haz puppiezzzzzz!
tucker and waylon!


life is good. i can't stand writing in 2 places, and i refuse to disrespect livejournal.
so if you wanna read details, go there.


wingz tonight. i'm stoked.

no warning for the dead

all i want to do is listen to new york hardcore and hate the world.


i don't want to talk about the following things with my parents, however my parents literally only talk to me about the following things:

- elvis/getting a new hound dog.
- cleaning my room.
- how my job hunt is going.


1. because i avoided the house after he died, they more or less hoarded all of his things into their room and i'm left with nothing but the fucking set of pictures i made on flickr. also, i don't want a dog that i'm going to compare to him. aka no hound dogs.

2. it's my motherfucking room. i'll clean it when i feel like it. don't come in it. don't look at it. that's pretty simple. the truth: i do think it's a mess.and i do intend on cleaning it. but i'm 23 fucking years old and the more i am nagged about it, the less inclined i am to do it.

3. my job hunt's going just fucking fine. i have 2 interviews tomorrow. i have 2 more people i need to schedule interviews with. and meanwhile i still have hilda. so really, get the motherfuck off my back about the job hunt.


i am seriously so grumpy. this is how i feel after really good weekends. coming home is like coming off of heroin.


i had a lottttttt of fun this weekend. i love when shows are big enough that people travel from all over to go to them. and hosting them is even better. meeting new people is awesome.

job hunting

oh hai, hire me.


i'm so sick. dying.

b9 confessions thread is ruining my life, in the best way possible.


INTEGRITY tomorrow.

&i swear, i'll never let you if you come away with me

the saddest thing i have done so far in 2009 happened this morning.


i woke up in my bed, reached for my dog, realized he'd never be there again.
cried myself back to sleep.
woke up in the morning in my black t-shirt.
and there were no elvis hairs on it.



being in my house is the most depressing thing.
my parents won't stop crying.
i can't even look at them. i just sit in my room.
i came home last night and actually closed my bedroom door.
i haven't done that in years, because elvis didn't like feeling trapped.