Slumming It - VII
So now I've got two ex-girlfriends obsessed with me stalking my LJ. And an ex-girlfriend's ex-boyfriend stalking me, and random faggot from Nashville stalking me. I'm going to f-locked after this post, so y'all are going to have to be my friend before you can read what my friends read.
I spent this weekend exactly how I wanted to, and it was awesome. On Saturday I slept all day and then went barhopping before settling on Champions to see the UFC fight. Georges St. Pierre demolished that little bitch Josh Koscheck. I stayed up until 5am playing King's Table and chess, taking every game. Then Sunday I slept late, woke up and made delicious eggs. I carried a three-person couch on my back up to the third floor, from its home by the dumpster, and covered its cracked faux-leather with a huge blanket tucked into the cushion corners. Matt's plan had been to set it on fire if we found bugs in it (he has a near-psychotic phobia of insects), but I couldn't find any nests. Then I put on shorts and sneakers and played soccer for a few hours with strangers in the cold. Then we got back and watched nature documentaries about fluffy downy baby owls learning to fly, while stoned out of our gourds on a super-comfy couch, sipping pumpkin and sugar cookie egg nog mixed together, and Sam Adams Winter Lager.
Fuck y'all haters telling me I need to get out of this situation. Out of being alone, not accountable to anyone, surrounded by loosely-moralled men who look up to me and do shit for me for money. By loosely-moralled women who build eyes at me.
I'm the lucky one.
I spent this weekend exactly how I wanted to, and it was awesome. On Saturday I slept all day and then went barhopping before settling on Champions to see the UFC fight. Georges St. Pierre demolished that little bitch Josh Koscheck. I stayed up until 5am playing King's Table and chess, taking every game. Then Sunday I slept late, woke up and made delicious eggs. I carried a three-person couch on my back up to the third floor, from its home by the dumpster, and covered its cracked faux-leather with a huge blanket tucked into the cushion corners. Matt's plan had been to set it on fire if we found bugs in it (he has a near-psychotic phobia of insects), but I couldn't find any nests. Then I put on shorts and sneakers and played soccer for a few hours with strangers in the cold. Then we got back and watched nature documentaries about fluffy downy baby owls learning to fly, while stoned out of our gourds on a super-comfy couch, sipping pumpkin and sugar cookie egg nog mixed together, and Sam Adams Winter Lager.
Click to viewFuck y'all haters telling me I need to get out of this situation. Out of being alone, not accountable to anyone, surrounded by loosely-moralled men who look up to me and do shit for me for money. By loosely-moralled women who build eyes at me.
I'm the lucky one.