The bottom of a bottle
Well, last night sucked ass. I was bored and one of my friends decided to get 2 40's of some good ol' malt liquor...bad idea. I've found that alcohol makes me angry and want to fight, so fuck it. I hate it now. First of all, one thing I hate more than anything is for someone to fuck with my stuff. It just irritates me that people don't have enough respect for someone elses property and enough respect for the person to take their possessions. Even if you think it's funny to mess with an angry obsessive compulsive guy, don't fuck with my shit...it will just get ugly. My Scobey, sorry about last night. You found a flaw! My biggest one, actually. I promise I won't drink anymore, so you have nothing to worry about. I won't ever hurt you(emotionally) or scare you again. That's a promise. The last thing I would do is upset you or make you lose any respect for me. Fuck alcohol. Anyway, I got all of my stuff back (all of my clothes and my prized bass) and all of my friends' are over my drunken fit of rage. It's all good in tha neighborhood. I don't have much more to say except for: Scobey, I love you (mwah!)...and Rachel, Hanukkah starts tomorrow. =) Love you all!
*Paddy*
*Paddy*