So, it has been an interesting weekend. The party went well. I'm putting some pictures on my page so make sure you check them out.
The two friends thing didn't happen. Well, not quite. The one wanted to stay. Not necessarily the one I wanted but oh well. (And no, I didn't. You Sick F@#ks know who you are.) (Actually, I'd be wondering the same thing.) (And honestly, I think the sick f@#ks are the ones I would rather hang out with anyhow. I mean it as a term of endearment.) She did stay but nothing really happened.
I wanted so badly to quote Swingers on the night of the party. I don't know the exact quote but to paraphrase, it went something like this:
Mike: I spend half the night talking to some girl who's looking around the room to see if there's somebody else who's more important she should be talking to. And it's like I'm supposed to be all happy 'cause she's wearing a backpack, you know? And half of them are just nasty skanks who wouldn't be nothing except they're surrounded by a bunch of drunken horny assholes. And I'm gonna tell you something T. Are you listening?
Trent: Yeah, I'm listening.
Mike: I'm not gonna be one of those assholes. Alright? It just makes me sick. It's like, some nasty skank who isn't half the woman my girlfriend is, is gonna front me? It makes me want to fuckin' puke!
Not that this girl is a nasty skank. I'm dealing with 1) I'm not going to be one of those assholes and 2) my standards may have been lowered by the whole "never getting laid" thing from the previous blog entry so she isn't, in fact, half the woman my girlfriend was.
So, where does that lead me? I think it might be back on the straight and narrow. I know that I'm not interested in anything with anyone that I'm not interested in. It sounds like simple logic but the devil in me didn't need to be interested in someone to be interested in anything with them. The old and quite possibly wiser me is rearing his ugly stubborn old head.
It just gets difficult when you realize that there isn't even a candidate in the running that looks good enough to fill the position. Isolation might be a long time coming. I play the role of the hermit perfectly too. At the party there was the issue of having to walk around the house to the back yard to get the kegs. A dear friend of mine laughed hysterically at the blunt turn downs to the "pretty girl, eyelashes fluttering" request of "Can't I just go through your room.
Going wine tasting w/ the British cousins. Should be a blast.
I don't really have much to say. Go look at the pics. The guy I am kissing on the head is the one who went into the marines.
The two friends thing didn't happen. Well, not quite. The one wanted to stay. Not necessarily the one I wanted but oh well. (And no, I didn't. You Sick F@#ks know who you are.) (Actually, I'd be wondering the same thing.) (And honestly, I think the sick f@#ks are the ones I would rather hang out with anyhow. I mean it as a term of endearment.) She did stay but nothing really happened.
I wanted so badly to quote Swingers on the night of the party. I don't know the exact quote but to paraphrase, it went something like this:
Mike: I spend half the night talking to some girl who's looking around the room to see if there's somebody else who's more important she should be talking to. And it's like I'm supposed to be all happy 'cause she's wearing a backpack, you know? And half of them are just nasty skanks who wouldn't be nothing except they're surrounded by a bunch of drunken horny assholes. And I'm gonna tell you something T. Are you listening?
Trent: Yeah, I'm listening.
Mike: I'm not gonna be one of those assholes. Alright? It just makes me sick. It's like, some nasty skank who isn't half the woman my girlfriend is, is gonna front me? It makes me want to fuckin' puke!
Not that this girl is a nasty skank. I'm dealing with 1) I'm not going to be one of those assholes and 2) my standards may have been lowered by the whole "never getting laid" thing from the previous blog entry so she isn't, in fact, half the woman my girlfriend was.
So, where does that lead me? I think it might be back on the straight and narrow. I know that I'm not interested in anything with anyone that I'm not interested in. It sounds like simple logic but the devil in me didn't need to be interested in someone to be interested in anything with them. The old and quite possibly wiser me is rearing his ugly stubborn old head.
It just gets difficult when you realize that there isn't even a candidate in the running that looks good enough to fill the position. Isolation might be a long time coming. I play the role of the hermit perfectly too. At the party there was the issue of having to walk around the house to the back yard to get the kegs. A dear friend of mine laughed hysterically at the blunt turn downs to the "pretty girl, eyelashes fluttering" request of "Can't I just go through your room.
Going wine tasting w/ the British cousins. Should be a blast.
I don't really have much to say. Go look at the pics. The guy I am kissing on the head is the one who went into the marines.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
Although last years' is damn hard to top.
I need your address, again, too.