(diaryland) May 31, 2001 - 10:27 p.m.

I did have an entry about some dreams I have had for today, but I left the disk it was on at work so it will have to be tomorrow's entry. So hang out for it. It's worth the wait. There is a lethal hairbrush and shoelace cars involved. And I wear a top hat.

So, anyway, I have to write about something else. I guess I can talk about Rufus Wainwright's dress sense.

God, it's snappy. Fuck. It's snappy. It is snappy. Does anyone else wear a tie with such flair? No, they don't. They DON'T. Fuck you. You have to agree. Chest hair never looked so artistic.

That last sentence sounds awful.

I don't know. It's hard to be shinyshiny and look so damn cool. When I grow up, I would like to have as much flair as that guy.

Unfortunately, I seem to dress a bit like that dude from Matchbox 20. His camel is even the same as mine. I hate that guy. He steals all my clothes.

I wish I could steal Rufus Wainwright's clothes. That is all.