  it has been one of the crazier weeks of late...and just so i can keep it straight in mind, i will provide you with a recap: the improvised satit session on saturday (and when is the satit not improvised) was only really worth it for richard's lips. oh those luscious lips. i was thoroughly wasted, yet didn't notice them until we were all sitting on the terre-plein at richard lenoir, and i was trying to stop his hiccups, unfortunately by talking to him and not, as i should've, by jumping on him.
well, i'm sure we'll be seeing more of him this summer. sunday was a painfully slow day if there ever was one. i kept going back to bed while pretending to miriam that i was helping with the writing of the mejicano's page. we did get it done, though, at 2 in the morning. results out tonight! monday: still recovering from the saturday madness, had a soup with maria at the conference room/canteen.
we then headed to l'autre for a coffee and i tried to revise after she left, got interrupted by a slightly demanding julien, headed home, tried to revise some more, went to bed. tuesday was big exam day, where i got to spend four hours writing with the bullshit-pen. about "globalisation, libertt coercition". yeh, you can take it in any fucking direction, so i led it in the general direction of my ass. my map (last half hour) was really funny too. with all sorts of colours: red, green, pink, blue, orange...much needed break at marc's, then lovely dinner at the charbon with ali baba, masha and marie.
who has humongous tits. that night, being maria's last, was when the Es didn't work, but the dancing came anyway. sylvie came, cried, took a million pictures and disappeared at 2am. the remainder of us hobbled up to the nouveau casino, only to find it firmly shut, so cithit was.
what a crap bar. wednesday , d-day, fnac(books), maria's (delivery and joints), shoved her into a taxi, waved a teary good-bye, had another soup w miriam, headed home to try to do the fiche (aaaahaha), only to fail miserably with the help of julien. ah, at least i got something out of that night. and not just a free nutella cr. next day: zadig & voltaire w miriam, i love sales, even if they are not really sales. really, -30% is not nearly enough. i got a black jacket and a really nice pink top anyway. coffee w amir and marie.
oh man, amir is HOT! he is so cute. and he knows how to keep the eye contact going. oh i was all flustered inside, i think miriam was too. the highlight of the day must've been my dinner in the 14th with pauline and the rest of them, including benji. he had lost 7kg and none of his endearing qualities: one of the first things he said to me was, "wow, you really lost some weight!
" and then throughout the night we were given the privilege of hearing about his most recent sexual exploits, including his latest fuck who has implants. apparently it is true that they stay up even when lying down, and "c'est dntiel. " he's also fucking a set of twins. he did have a big cock, that's one thing he had going for him. so anyway, saw amir again that night, at the canal w yves marc marie & co. the french kids left, and we headed to ste marthe for a nightcap.
ooooh, amir is so cute...so cute, so cute... later, going home, and thank god yves accompanied me with a percolator in one hand and a newspaper in the other (for that slapstick element), st maur once again proved itself to be the seediest of streets in paris. surfing my usual web-stops, i found urlLink this good read. made me giggle/sweat in self-recognition...and shame?
most of it is basically a word-to-word transcript of my last year and a half, so why the fuck am i still allowing any of it affect me? and i respond, despite meself... and so this is to those guys who can't make their minds up (and there are so many...), and then regret it later: fuck off! stop playing your damn games! if you can't follow through, don't even start. and i hate maria even more!!!!! she knows why ;-) 
