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Although as a small reward, I am now drinking this strange stuff by a company called Tropi-Coco. It's, get this, coconut-flavored soda. Makes my head feel sweetly fizzy and decadent, like I should be luxuriating on some expensive, tropical beach.

Oh wait. Backyard. Right. *g*

Lance leading Vegas club patrons in a chairtop dance-off to Girlfriend while fire alarms blared in the background? Somehow entirely unsurprising, though no less amusing for that. Think if something actually had gone down he'd be the only one to survive on account of, well, already flaming bright, or the fact that his body chemistry obviously contains sufficient amounts of retardant as evidenced by all the years that no conclusive evidence of the adforementioned has surfaced in any publication? You decide.

I organized both sets of New York pictures into an album last night. Dude, I'm a rockin' photographer. The only reason I was considering buying a digital camera is the advantage of seeing my pictures before they're developed to ensure they'll come out right, but about 95% of my pictures are exactly as I'd hoped they'd be.

GIPitty GIP. [livejournal.com profile] walkingshadow keeps outdoing herself, that clever girl. *mwah*

The principal cast of Harry Potter as models cracks my shit up, yo. It's just... silliness, you know? When I look at them, I see Harry, Hermione, and Ron, not Dan, Emma, and Rupert, so they're these quirky wizard kids who should be in student robes romping drafty castles, not glamming it up for Vanity Fair. They're all handsome/beautiful/etc, assuredly, but so very not the waify monuments to disaffection that most models are, either.

For [livejournal.com profile] mimesere because she noticed while I was just kinda going 'ooh, pretty limber bodyguard/assassins' during the first scene with the Merovingian:



It's a hookah! It really, really is. And our theme of the day is offically decadence, kids. (with thanks to Tamsin at
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Although as a small reward, I am now drinking this strange stuff by a company called Tropi-Coco. It's, get this, coconut-flavored soda. Makes my head feel sweetly fizzy and decadent, like I should be luxuriating on some expensive, tropical beach.

Oh wait. Backyard. Right. *g*

Lance leading Vegas club patrons in a chairtop dance-off to <i>Girlfriend</i> while fire alarms blared in the background? Somehow entirely unsurprising, though no less amusing for that. Think if something actually had gone down he'd be the only one to survive on account of, well, already flaming bright, or the fact that his body chemistry obviously contains sufficient amounts of retardant as evidenced by all the years that no conclusive evidence of the adforementioned has surfaced in any publication? You decide.

I organized both sets of New York pictures into an album last night. Dude, I'm a rockin' photographer. The only reason I was considering buying a digital camera is the advantage of seeing my pictures before they're developed to ensure they'll come out right, but about 95% of my pictures are exactly as I'd hoped they'd be.

GIPitty GIP. <lj site="livejournal.com" user="walkingshadow"> keeps outdoing herself, that clever girl. *mwah*

<a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/opheliam/669429.html?nc=21">The principal cast of <i>Harry Potter</i> as models</a> cracks my shit up, yo. It's just... silliness, you know? When I look at them, I see Harry, Hermione, and Ron, not Dan, Emma, and Rupert, so they're these quirky wizard kids who should be in student robes romping drafty castles, not glamming it up for <i>Vanity Fair</i>. They're all handsome/beautiful/etc, assuredly, but so very not the waify monuments to disaffection that most models are, either.

For <lj site="livejournal.com" user="mimesere"> because she noticed while I was just kinda going 'ooh, pretty limber bodyguard/assassins' during the first scene with the Merovingian:

<center><img src="http://plaza.ufl.edu/iwan2kno/twinshookah.jpg"></center>

It's a hookah! It really, really is. And our theme of the day is offically decadence, kids. (with thanks to Tamsin at <a href=""http://www.nimnastian.net">nimnastian.net</a> for the picture)

Right On

Date: June 4th, 2003 10:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ramblinround.livejournal.com
Lance leading Vegas club patrons in a chairtop dance-off to Girlfriend while fire alarms blared in the background? Somehow entirely unsurprising, though no less amusing for that. Think if something actually had gone down he'd be the only one to survive on account of, well, already flaming bright, or the fact that his body chemistry obviously contains sufficient amounts of retardant as evidenced by all the years that no conclusive evidence has surfaced in any publication? You decide.

*snicker* I'd try to be witty, but it's too early in the morning... so just, Word.

Re: Right On

Date: June 4th, 2003 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gjstruthseeker.livejournal.com
But you didn't choose which! *g* The way I see it, apocalypse schmocalypse: you know Lance would still be standing when the roaches rule again. And perhaps Jim Carrey - no part of that man could possibly be made of the same stuff as the rest of us. It does not compute.

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