T-R-A-M-P

Had an incredibly disturbing dream in which I beat to death the woman from the Relacor ads who says, “Get rid of stubborn belly fat” at the request of my friend Manda (http://www.amandagulley.blogspot.com/). Does killing someone in a dream count as murder? And why couldn’t I have snuffed someone who really deserved it? Like the Elephant-Christian who lives directly above me? These questions we might never have the answer to.

Went to Maude Vintage today after class/work to find some skin-tight clothes to wear on my date tonight. Really, what’s a girl to wear? But let’s keep that on the down-low. I am a T-R-A-M-P. Maude V has moved out of the basement and out onto a street level shop on Broadway. This saddens me. I asked an uninterested and apathetic employee (yet another Alternative-goddess decked in leg-warmers, gaudy plastic jewelry, and a cropped sweatshirt) why they had moved out. I also told her that I liked it better dirty.

To which she replied ominously, “Oh, it’ll get dirty.”