So. Here I am again. Just before bedtime, and trying to think of something to write about.
I had what I thought was a pretty good idea for an entry earlier. Problem is, it really is a good idea, and I don't want to waste it now, semi-inebriated as I am.
I could, I suppose, just put in a standard Friday beer report, but there was a lot more than drinking that happened tonight. I don't want to blow what may well be the last bit of drama I ever experience by rushing through a description of it.
I think the only thing I want to say right now is this:
I am, for the first time in a very long time, both available and vulnerable. Women of the world, consider yourselves warned.
If you're pretty, watch out. If you're passionate, be careful. If you're smart, stay vigilant. If you're pretty and passionate and smart, well, just hope that I don't find out. Because my heart is looking for someone to latch on to, and you could end up being my next victim.
Okay, maybe that was a little too melodramatic. I am not Son Of Sam (sorry Nat), but I am not Sir Galahad either. I, like almost every other man on Earth, am somewhere in the middle.
Awkward ending to a pointless entry.