Friday, November 11

I would never want to be known as an alcoholic, but being referred to as a "dipsomaniac" would be pretty sweet. so many beautiful words fallen into disuse!

Christmas is coming up, folks. shortly after that, the birthday arriveth. need gift ideas? here's all you need, the oft updated wish list. go buy me stuff. after all, I've only got two birthday's left for a while. like I've always said, I'm stopping at 26. 27 just sounds too close to 30, so I'm going to be 26 until I'm at least 38, at which time I'll actually turn 38 and stay there until I'm 50. after that I'll just wing it. the way I see it, as long as I stay away from sun and cigs and moisturize religiously, I've got the bone structure to grow ancient quite gracefully. if I have to dip into the grecian formula, so be it. but I refuse to go bald. eh, why worry? often hair loss is caused by an excess of testosterone. let's see..."jeremy has an excess of tes...t..test..." I can't even finish typing it without giggling.

speaking of appearance, I've been on the diet train and have lost roughly ten pounds. five more and I treat myself to a new outfit. ten after that, I kill myself because life will never get any better. actually I'll probably just put all back on and them some when I scream, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE," fill an IV drip with olive oil, and spike myself the hell up while chowing down on loaves of french bread and wheels of mozzarella.