Ugh.
That's all I have to say tonight.
Ugh.
I feel like someones taken a ball-peen hammer to every joint in my body.
Which makes for a foul mood.
I'm working on a new Reykjavik bar guide, which includes some of the new places that have popped up around town.
But that puts me in a foul mood too.
I mean, what kind of "Scottish Pub" fucking dress-codes a guy for "wearing a leather jacket"?!?!? And what the exactafuck is up with the clientele at Domo? I mean, all these suit-clad Davið-youth hitting my broke ass up for smokes and beer? Or being so freaked out by my appearance that they run back out of the restroom when they encounter me washing my hands? Of course, that might just be because, according to a friend of Urður's, I'm a "scary man-beast".
And how the hell has Boston developed such a complete indy-snob VIP-line in just a month or so of existence?
Grr Arg!
'Nuff for now.
Going to bed.
2 comments:
I'm so completely un-hip, that I have no earthly idea where this Boston is. Last weekend some guy asked me for directions, so I pretended to be a deaf-mute camel. Where is this haven of wannabe indie sheep located?
scary man - beast ???????????
are you telling me that ur webcam can photoshop ur image while camming for other ppl!!!!
anyways awww there there
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