Um, okay, yeah. Three words and when they are all implored in one sentence you should worry, especially when it's me that's employing all three as one sentence. Because, um, yeah - another three to make you wary - I just had sex with some random boy, perhaps man, at Niki's store party. I equal out of control and I knew this when I was locking the bathroom with this boy who I just had started talking to perhaps two minutes earlier and you now was dry humping against a wall at a party. I don't know how it started, really - but I think he was a married fashion designer. I had had three glasses of gin, maybe that's why.

I still can smell semen and then even though I only had one toke of this stranger's pot, I got so incredibly baked. On the subway ride home, I was laughing at the top of lungs, uncontrollably, because this mom and her son were exchaning one of those uncontrollabe, private laughs and it reminded me of so much and I lost it, laughed so much, got stared at, tried covering my mouth but could not help it. And now, that post-jacking off high and that stoned high, I am going to karaoke at Metropolitan, where all considering, I should obviously not sing, but watch me, if you dare, try, try, and try.