It's Late... And the Night May Not Be Over.
Hmm... I am waiting. I am awaiting the call of several girls, possibly the best night yet given the time. Apparently, they are attractive and want to party. Here, at the U.C., we want to party. It is summer A, but that is no reason to slow down. So, I am sitting here, rather inebriated mind you, awaiting their presence.
This is my funny “drunk” entry. We all have them. And they are trendy; therefore, I am down with constructing one. I am all about being fashionable... Seriously, I have nothing better to do. Also, Go Gators!
I watched Muhammad Ali outlast and out punch George Foreman tonight at The Grog House. Then, finally, in the eighth, Ali knocked Foreman down for good. This is what I enjoyed. Not the dancing... Not the music... Not the people... Not the free alcohol... Not the experience of the evening, but the fight. Several attractive females were about, but they were all smokers (inhuman) and I had no aspiration to chat with them. Instead, I had a wonderful conversation with a gentleman about the finer points of boxing and Ali's fast hands, his defeat of Frasier, and finally, Tyson’s ascension.
Ugh... Okay... All I said to the "gentleman" was, "It's the seventh round." And even that was incorrect of me... It was, in fact, the eighth round. Ali knocks Forman out in the eighth round. In other words dear readers of jashergin, I lied about the conversation I had earlier; it was only a sentence exchange between the "Gentleman" and me. In reality, nothing much happened at the Grog House. I was talked into going by several females and I complied. After which, the females went on their own deserting me to the nameless crowd. I initially accepted the invitation because the evening seemed female heavy, thus I took my chances. I am a college guy after all and should expect such things of myself. However, shortly after I departed them and had Jimmy John’s, they abandoned me for... Umm... For whatever it is girls abandon guys for.
I am done now. My roommate is currently IMing me explaining that several females are coming and that I should sober up and proceed to play the role. The role of the prototypical college... The one where I say that I workout and get tanned. Then I talk about the latest sports event and tell whatever female I am talking with that her eyes are pretty, because females like that. Not that her breasts are nice, no, it's all about her eyes... Since that is "appropriate" and "nice" and a very gentlemanly thing to say. We, I, make me sick.
Here, at the U.C.
We want to have a party...
Waiting is tedium...
-James
P.S. Several entries ago I stated in a comment to Hephalump that the aircraft pictured may be a Spad (something). I was incorrect; no way could a German aircraft be a French made fighter.
P.P.S. If you are reading this Stephanie of my former Astro class, comment!
P.P.P.S. I hate being a guy...
P.P.P.P.S. No, I hate being human.
This is my funny “drunk” entry. We all have them. And they are trendy; therefore, I am down with constructing one. I am all about being fashionable... Seriously, I have nothing better to do. Also, Go Gators!
I watched Muhammad Ali outlast and out punch George Foreman tonight at The Grog House. Then, finally, in the eighth, Ali knocked Foreman down for good. This is what I enjoyed. Not the dancing... Not the music... Not the people... Not the free alcohol... Not the experience of the evening, but the fight. Several attractive females were about, but they were all smokers (inhuman) and I had no aspiration to chat with them. Instead, I had a wonderful conversation with a gentleman about the finer points of boxing and Ali's fast hands, his defeat of Frasier, and finally, Tyson’s ascension.
Ugh... Okay... All I said to the "gentleman" was, "It's the seventh round." And even that was incorrect of me... It was, in fact, the eighth round. Ali knocks Forman out in the eighth round. In other words dear readers of jashergin, I lied about the conversation I had earlier; it was only a sentence exchange between the "Gentleman" and me. In reality, nothing much happened at the Grog House. I was talked into going by several females and I complied. After which, the females went on their own deserting me to the nameless crowd. I initially accepted the invitation because the evening seemed female heavy, thus I took my chances. I am a college guy after all and should expect such things of myself. However, shortly after I departed them and had Jimmy John’s, they abandoned me for... Umm... For whatever it is girls abandon guys for.
I am done now. My roommate is currently IMing me explaining that several females are coming and that I should sober up and proceed to play the role. The role of the prototypical college... The one where I say that I workout and get tanned. Then I talk about the latest sports event and tell whatever female I am talking with that her eyes are pretty, because females like that. Not that her breasts are nice, no, it's all about her eyes... Since that is "appropriate" and "nice" and a very gentlemanly thing to say. We, I, make me sick.
Here, at the U.C.
We want to have a party...
Waiting is tedium...
-James
P.S. Several entries ago I stated in a comment to Hephalump that the aircraft pictured may be a Spad (something). I was incorrect; no way could a German aircraft be a French made fighter.
P.P.S. If you are reading this Stephanie of my former Astro class, comment!
P.P.P.S. I hate being a guy...
P.P.P.P.S. No, I hate being human.