and that i never meant that much to you
to hear that tears me up inside
and to see you cuts me like a knife...
walked into a house of butt-rockers last night. byu art students and theme parties with root beer and candy. i think i ran into nikki sixx... or, at least a member of his family. very strange...
willie called me while i stood on the lawn with strange people, then placed a third person call to mike argo. i paced the street in front of the house with strange people lifting brown root-beer bottles to their mouths, trying to look like bad ass butt-rockers. i listened, i laughed and spoke a little... fond memories of my childhood.
my phone went dead... i sat on the porch with marsha, while she spoke openly of her desire to have sex (mormon girls wait till marriage).
i got home around 12:30 (after driving past call's house to see if the party there was still on). watched howard stern for a moment. ozzie osborne, a guest with marilyn manson and twiggy, said that having sex with his wife was like throwing a sausage into the grand canyon.
i went to bed laughing.