||[Sep. 14th, 2005|12:38 pm]
A male street performing clown just made a pass at me as i passed by... And then realized i was not a girl.|
Dave got his haircut this weekend, but before he did we went into some place and some old guy said, "Come on in, Ladies..."
dude, you obviously need a little stuffing (maybe a sock would work?) down your pants.
and the idea of a street performer clown hitting on anybody creeps me right the fuck out.
i've just been waiting for an excuse. your suggestion will do.
In which our hero deftly transforms his horror at getting hit on by a clown into that clown's worst, manhood-destroying dude looks like a lady nightmare.
i know where to find him. i'll visit him now and then, and we'll start a street comedy/drama/tragedy.
Now, honestly, your hair isn't that long, and you don't look like a girl.
the frequency at which i'm mistaken for one has been increasing. it's around twice a week now.
Unfortunately, I know your pain, as I've been called sir too often to mention. Maybe i should just smack people with my breasts.
You can practice on me if you'd like
shave your head, put on 40lbs of muscle, get a tattoo on the back of your neck that says "murderer," and problem solved.
but the world doesn't need another daretoeatapeach.
haha, yes one is more than enough!
oh hey, i know someone that knows rob. random. she was perusing my LJ friends page and saw something you posted about him. ; )
What?! That means he's been leaving the house and not notifying me!
He lives over by you, so you may see me saunter past a bit.
that's what i heard. you can always drop by too. i owe you some cheap liquor. ; )