projectwarbeast

So, My birthday sucked ass. Woke up at 1:30pm to my phone ringing, went down to the kitchen to fax a prescription over to the eye Doctor's office, upon arriving on the second floor I couldn't see 3 feet in front of me, due to the billowing clouds of smoke coming from the kitchen, someone left meatballs simmering on the stove and left the house. They ended up cooking the figgin pot. The entire house still smells like scorched metal. And not in that working at the forge way. So, I finally get my ass in gear and head to Manray. Get to the club run into a couple of people and the night is off to a decent start. Walk into the cage and oh look, my ex-girlfriend. So I spent most of the night wanting to talk to her, but not hving even the slightest bit of courage to do so. Jedi blew the club off, so did my boy Wyatt, so I spent the Night hanging out with EdtheDestroyer, and those that know Ed know exactly how cheerful he can be. Then at the end of the night, going down to get my jacket from coatcheck my right crutch hits a patch of wetfloor and slides out from under me, bringing my weight (so what if I'm skinny) down on my surgically repaired knee. Then one of my ex's friends, a sort of acquaintance of mine stops by to see how I'm doing. the ex wanders up hands the friend her coat check stub and walks off. I go home, alone, lonely, and not nearly drunk enough for my own good. So this brings to a close Shitty Birthday number 19 out of 27. And 6 of those 27 are unaccounted for, since I don't remember the first six years of my life.

Year 28 better start getting happier really fucking quick or someone is gonna fuckin die.