[See, this is the thanks I get for putting my trust in wise guys like Jeremy, aka. “Look-at-this-cute-face—could-you-possibly-distrust-someone-as-likable-as-me??” I gave him my password so he could install a nifty little doodad on my Xanga, and lo and behold, I was greeted this morning with a very un-me entry. FYI, if ever you hear me using the word “dude”, you can safely assume I had nothing to do with the writing! (Memo to Sunny: time to quit the habit, babe!). All this to say that I DID go to Basel with six gorgeous ladies last night, but it was much less ghetto and much more classy than Jeremy’s illicit entry implies! More later… Oh, and you will NEVER ever see me signing anything as “Miche”! Any French speaking person who knows the meaning of the word in the Language of Love will be able to enlighten you on the reason for that….]
well i had the sickest time EVER tonight hanging with my homies. me, sun, phleg, fi, nic, ‘laner, and liz went party hoppin up in the basel zone, yo yo. it was tite. we totally took pics and walked around and all that jazz. totally sic. yeah… then i came back to the storch crib, and i’m hanging, so cool, like its nobody’s business, yo. aight, i like, gotta run now. k, i’m out.
leave me some, homies.
EDIT: (Posted by Jeremy having a hissy fit) JEREMY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. The fact of having a password does not necessarily mean he will abuse it. He is just doing this to protect himself from being framed. Jeremy does not use “sick” “tite” “k” or use girly pet names for girls that I do NOT know on such a personal level.
EDIT: Hmm…. Methinks the [man] doth protest to much. (Although I *am* beginning to wonder if one of Storch’s saintly ladies might be to blame instead of the much-maligned Jeremy… It’s just so hard to imagine one of those angelic creatures of mercy being so devious…) If Jeremy is reading this–tell me if you, me and your sis are going out for tea, ice cream, or a meal sometime! I’d love to be able to do that!
Mea Culpa: It appears I’ve been duped by the cutest of urchins. It was Liz–sweet, innocent, faultless (and entirely deceitful) Lizzard. And she committed this fraud after I had GRACIOUSLY driven her and her cohorts in crime to Basel, bought them Starbucks, and gotten into a tussle with the border guard (uh, Sunny, time to actually carry a passport when crossing borders, babe…!). But despite my oh-so-missionary-like kindness (ha!) and servant-heart (ew), she still got on the dorm computer last night (not physically ON the dorm computer, though I can easily imagine her astride the monitor twirling an imaginary lasso and yelling, “Here, cow, cow, cow!”), noticed that I hadn’t logged off from Xanga, and proceeded to write an entry in my name. Which led me to accuse the only person I knew who had my password, the much-maligned and, in this case, INNOCENT Jeremy–to whom I submit my most humble apology. Shades of 10th grade, right buddy?
I promise to post pictures and write a “real” entry as soon as revenge is exacted through my weapon of choice: smacks upside the head. And maybe something nice for Jeremy.