:: It is not within me to be silent ::
Semi-regular filthy-minded misogynist rants coupled with philosophical treastises into the nature or gender politics. Though I'm not always right, I'm very rarely wrong.
Friday, October 03, 2003 ::
Just 25 days till I turn 27.
Man, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Every time I go to my dad's house, I drink a lot of beer, eat a lot of food and wake up with sinus problems the next morning. I know it's sinuses because beer is good and good for you. And I never get enough sleep. I can't. Unfortunately, it is not within me to sleep a full night. I also know it wasn't the beer because I didn't drink that much and I sobered up before I went to sleep. If the room isn't spinning when I close my eyes, then I'm sober.
So my friend's wife gave him the go ahead to play the video game championship, in his own words:
I talked with her. I decided to go round to round with the talks but she said cool she just wanted to know for sure if I was going to do it so she can arrange for a friend to pick her up on Saturday to go to the Barbie -Q since if everything goes well we won't make it at the time she wanted to go. She said we better get there early enough to be in the list of people actually competing if she is going to go through the trouble of asking a friend to come get her so we better show up early to Gamestop to ensure that. She was actually going to say some supportive stuff this morning right up until we heard a thunk and her starbucks cup that I had put some juice fell off the top of the car because I forgot about it but secretly she is still supporting me despite that making her mad. So I am going to get NHL 2004 tonight after work.
He is such a dumbass if he thinks she's actually being supportive. It's called mollification people.
Man, I could use a massage. My neck, back and shoulders ache. My dead best friend and I used to give one another massages, in a non-gay way. Yeah. The worst part (currently in the running for number one worst thing about death) is that I have to keep reminding myself that he's dead. You know I watched Smallville, a show that he loved, and then Angel, another show that he loved, and if not for chatting up sweet Marci, I would have been in tears. I just can't seem to enjoy things the way I used to, especially knowing that I can't call him up afterwards to talk about it or laugh about it or make fun of his love of it. And I miss that. And it hurts. But I'm coping. This is one of the reasons I got so drunk last night, to forget about life for a while. It worked.
Okay, that out of the way, tonight I go see a band that has two of my friends, ATMOSTFEAR. Sort of a metal band, but kinda death metal. We'll see how they are, they're playing at the worst club in Michigan, Harpos, where bad people go to die. It's so far in the ghetto that even thugs are afraid to drive by it. Either before or after their show, I'm finally watching Bowling for Columbine. Saturday I'm going to a gay barbeque, hosted by a gay couple with lots of gay people there and hopefully, playing gay games. But that's just my hope, like pin the tail on the tail, bobbing for fun and profit and my favorite, Twister, Sister. This is hosted by a gay man who once fell in love with me. Not that you can blame him, I am all that.
Then Sunday, like the Lord, we rest. Hopefully. I have no plans, but I'll probably end up playing lots of NHL 2004 since my friend is buying it. Or I could go home and watch Requiem for a Dream and the Animatrix.
And sometime this weekend, I'm getting some Indian food. I'm aching for a Samosa, but the one place I used to get them in Hamtramck is closed. HOWEVER, I shall be in the neighborhood of Ferndale where there is a Star of India to check out. I will have my samosa!
:: Paul 4:45:00 PM [+] ::
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