saturday is off tha heezy fa sheezy
you can find me up in one tweezy
sunday is when i get my sleep in
'cause on monday we'll be at it again

on friday evening i was sitting home, restless as usual.� so sarah and i decided to go dancing.� "shall i pick up anything from the store?� alright, we'll see if i don't cheap out."� it could signify an unspoken agreement.� a green flag waved frantically at the start of a 48 hour binge.� just a couple days earlier, we'd gone to the edinburgh and gotten a bit silly.� we spent an evening at club lovely and all we got was an empty flask at the end of the night and this lousy sticker slapped over my speedometer, that reads "KILL."� she fell asleep at denny's because apparently all the mel's are no longer open 'round the clock, and i left a half-eaten plate of food.� but this, you could plainly see, was going to be more.

a terribly blurry more.� gulped down glasses of straight vodka at her kitchen table, went for a drive, danced at fake, "who is this that just latched onto my arm?� do i know her?� if she's really Nast� could you please push her off of me?," and a half-eaten sandwich abandoned at sparky's.� we rolled out of bed the next day at 2pm and decided we should go for a walk and have sushi for lunch, and then see the royal tenenbaums because apparently it's the thing to see.� more sushi after the movie.� and a cr�pe.� went to a party where we basically just watched guns 'n' roses videos and gulped down more vodka.� then for a drive, listening to r. kelly and ludacris, swerving and trading seats without stopping.� and taking pictures?� went to a show in some warehouse and gulped down yet more vodka.� "either you are going to have a good time, or you are not going to get trashed.� because people at these places are really not that interesting or cool when you're sober."

ansh took my keys and put them in his jeans, looking out for my best interests.� before we were finished, i decided i'd prefer to drive, so i searched through his pockets, threatening to fully grope him if he didn't stand more still.� he was trying to have a conversation with someone.� we picked sarah up from the corner where she was trying to pass out, and before we got to my car they'd apparently had a fight.� he took off down the street.� with my mellow fully stomped, i asked her why i bothered.� of course she wouldn't remember, and of course i knew why i bother.� she's too mean for him.� everyone thinks she's mean, but i don't.� or i do.

she idolizes a cartoon character named rei, and dyed her hair blue as a tribute.� she says she has a plane ticket and says "you're going to come visit me after i move, right?� please?"� i don't blame her, though i'll miss her. "i just want understanding, and then i fucking want to be left alone."� the feeling that you've met everyone there is to meet, gotten onto their bad sides in a town that's turned out to not be so big after all.� we're mean to each other.� one of our favorite records is teenage fanclub's bandwagonesque.� we infect each other's manners of speech, so now she says "whigger" a lot and i say "swissy."� we get on people's nerves at parties.

when we arrived at her house, i called his cellphone.� he was still on the street, walking across town.� i apologized for letting him walk home alone, though i'm sure he preferred to be left alone even though it meant walking all the way across san francisco before sunrise.� in the morning i woke up, and brushed the cat hair off as i'd been doing all weekend because her bed is full of it.� i found that she'd turned the thermostat up to 90 degrees in an apparent attempt to cook us alive overnight.� i found it funny.� then i turned it down, left a note on her desk, and went home.