the return of phasoom the magnificent

Oh my brothers, last night was pretty much amazing. I was hit with the typical fever of boredom that follows a particularly lush festivus, there is no more chocolate, rum or mashed potatoes left . . . I am a shell of a person without such wonderous things.

To battle the upcoming depression I could feel lurking in my gullet, I meandered downstairs in search of adventure . . . there it was, could it be any more obvious?!?! Phasoom the Magnificent, the sewing machine of wonder and unicorns or whatevs!! It was love, my brothers, it just felt right. Pretty much what was to follow is now recorded in the history books of fucking amazingness. Not only did I make a purse but it didn't suck, and it had a liner which also didn't suck!!! But also, it looks fucking amazing!!! It shall be named the 'Rory' Purse because just like Rory's conception on the Gilmore Girls, it was a surprise that resulted in great and many things!! Namely, something to distract me every Tuesday night. Ha! I AM THE MASTER OF MUTHAFUCKING SEWING CHIC!

Oh ho ho!! And to add to the creative splendor, I figured out what to do on my looming 21st birthday besides the whole drinking drank drunk bit. Wait for it . . . THE INDIE ROCK DISCO!!! It's once a week at the Velvet Underground and it happens to be on my birthday. So if one can't be in Germany on their birthday at least you can do what the Germans do, and that my friends, is to muthafucking rock out! Oh my dancing shoes will be a grooving that night.

Happiness, my brothers, consists of a little thing called disco groove. That and a whole lot of drinking.