8spiders

Sooo....

So.

So. So.

At my friend's birthday party I went a couple rounds with Everclear. Let me tell you, that was a mistake. Three hours sleep + No food = I was hitting on my friend's wife and trying to woo the napkin dispenser.

Wow.

When you're trying to dare your friends to see if your breath is actually flammable, it's time to pass out and save those 15 minutes of fame you'll get from ending up on the Darwin Awards.

Oddly enough, I didn't enjoy myself. Even the bits I could remember. Not for any other reason except I was too drunk. I think I've lost my taste for getting shit-faced.

Is this the end of an era? Ah, c'est la vie.

We'll see.

So when I'm not looking for women, I find them. But they're fuck all boring or can't kiss.

Ugh. There's one that's like Sarah Jessica Parker, except she's got this stare, like someone's superglued her eyelids open and she can't hold conversation for shit. So I've got these eyes square on me and it's just uncomfortable silence., I feel as if been spotted escaping some Nazi death camp. Scared and terrified. As if she's burrowing into my soul.

This other girl I've nicknamed: The Lamprey. I don't think I need to go further than that.

Man. Dating, is ass, I'll tell you that for free. Maybe I'll stick to my books for the time being. Books never disappointed me.

Ugh, except for that R.A. Salvitore disaster he calls a series. Oh, and don't even get me started on hacks like Steven King or Piers Anthony.

Hmm. Maybe books aren't such a good idea after all.