You can breathe, but the air is running out
So last night was interesting, mostly in the fact that it wasnt.
Its been a long while (notice that i dont use contractions BECAUSE FUCK EM!) since an Alehouse Saturday night has been that uneventful.
Notice, i didnt say it was bad. It wasnt bad. I dont think it could ever REALLY be bad. It just wasnt great.
I was honestly hoping Kelly would come so at least id feel awkward and somewhat upset instead of completely "bla."
I think that's sort of sick.
I caught Pete with by far the nastiest burn of the night, although im not really sure it can be considered a burn since it wasnt THAT offensive.
Anyway, i'll set the stage.
Pete "The Artist Formerly Known as the Destoryer" Carbo is playing, and losing, his 6th straight beer pong game. Im sitting with his semi-GF Denise on the leather bench watching the game.
Pete's pants, as always, are resting somewhere between his waist and China, and Denise says "I always try to pick them up for him but he never does."
and I go, "Nah..dont worry..Pete's always been like that. When he was a baby, he'd wear his diapers around his ankles" /burn.
Maybe it wasnt really that great, but i mrean remember, this was last night and we were drunk.
Fuck.
Its not that good.
Hahahahaa. Crickets.
Anyway, Pete left bc he's a bitch and had to go get laid or something that faggots do, and I was left just hanging out. I called more than a few people for rides who all blew me off, which is pretty annoying but i mean, whatever, thats fine.
I dont really have anything else to write about and I hate recapping events, but i wanted to write something and really didnt have anything else to say.
Im still weird, lonely, and clever (at least im hoping), so all of that is still in check, in case you were wondering.
I still write "poetry" and im still a "squid", i just havent really had the time lately.
My guitar should be here sooooon.
Earlier:
Me: "Hey dad, when my guitar comes..thats gonna be a pretty big box huh? I wonder what itll look like?"
Dad: "Like a guitar box."
Oh.
Thanks dad.
Its been a long while (notice that i dont use contractions BECAUSE FUCK EM!) since an Alehouse Saturday night has been that uneventful.
Notice, i didnt say it was bad. It wasnt bad. I dont think it could ever REALLY be bad. It just wasnt great.
I was honestly hoping Kelly would come so at least id feel awkward and somewhat upset instead of completely "bla."
I think that's sort of sick.
I caught Pete with by far the nastiest burn of the night, although im not really sure it can be considered a burn since it wasnt THAT offensive.
Anyway, i'll set the stage.
Pete "The Artist Formerly Known as the Destoryer" Carbo is playing, and losing, his 6th straight beer pong game. Im sitting with his semi-GF Denise on the leather bench watching the game.
Pete's pants, as always, are resting somewhere between his waist and China, and Denise says "I always try to pick them up for him but he never does."
and I go, "Nah..dont worry..Pete's always been like that. When he was a baby, he'd wear his diapers around his ankles" /burn.
Maybe it wasnt really that great, but i mrean remember, this was last night and we were drunk.
Fuck.
Its not that good.
Hahahahaa. Crickets.
Anyway, Pete left bc he's a bitch and had to go get laid or something that faggots do, and I was left just hanging out. I called more than a few people for rides who all blew me off, which is pretty annoying but i mean, whatever, thats fine.
I dont really have anything else to write about and I hate recapping events, but i wanted to write something and really didnt have anything else to say.
Im still weird, lonely, and clever (at least im hoping), so all of that is still in check, in case you were wondering.
I still write "poetry" and im still a "squid", i just havent really had the time lately.
My guitar should be here sooooon.
Earlier:
Me: "Hey dad, when my guitar comes..thats gonna be a pretty big box huh? I wonder what itll look like?"
Dad: "Like a guitar box."
Oh.
Thanks dad.