Pretty crowded, but I wanted to sit at the bar anyway, and there's a seat open. Some dude wants to buy an XL DaveFest shirt, but I'm out of that size. I order a Bluegrass Jefferson's Reserve Bourbon Barrel Stout (234), which is back after a brief absence.
I'm in a shitty mood already.
FutureDude tells me that he can't find any DaveFest shirts. There should be several of them left. Maybe Roger needed some rags to wash his car.
I've been on a Saltine-only diet all week. I should keep that in mind when I order beer tonight.
This one fucker thinks he's so smart, so deep. He's deep all right. He has to be to hold all that bullshit.
Meanwhile, there's been a hot girl in the red room all this time and I didn't see her until just now. I'm such a slacker.
They're having an art thing here tomorrow, and I just found out that MisunderstoodGirl will be here. Yay!
I think that if nobody tries to talk to me tonight, then I'll be able to maintain my mood at merely shitty.
Ugh. Fucking PBDs.
People keep telling me that they like this kind of entry, with the times and the mundane thoughts and shit. I don't know why they like them. Are they living their lives vicariously through me? Well, if so, then I've got bad news for them. This is no life. This is just me wondering if anything will ever happen ever again.
The PBDs at the island are leaving. Maybe I should move over there. That hot girl's blouse may accidentally fall to the floor. Or maybe she could trip and fall and accidentally impale herself on my dick.
Too late. Some strangers just took over the island.
Another BBC bourbon thingy (254).
The geeks at the right end of the bar are leaving. I'm moving over there.
I have this scenario that keeps running through my head. The perfect scenario. The only scenario that I can imagine that would allow me to move past this bullshit. Fortunately, it's no longer the least likely scenario that I can imagine. Unfortunately, it's still pretty fucking unlikely, and I don't have a backup plan.
People are hovering all around me again. I hate it when this happens.
I'd try. I'd really try to be strong. But I'd fail, and my eyes would give me away and reveal my weakness.
King Kong Bundy just sat at the other end of the bar.
Holy shit! Eric and Teri are here! We go and sit in the red room. This is very cool.
Now DooragGirl is here. Yay!
DooragGirl is avoiding me, or she's at least picking the PBDs over me. Either way, that's just fucking fantastic. Not.
WomanRepellant is here. He owes me money.
Time for another BBC thingy (274).
Teri thinks that I should have done what MixedSignalGirl asked me to do. I could not disagree more.
Eric and Teri are leaving.
Diet Coke time.
Hey! ActualGeorge is here!
Then I went to White Castle (and ended my Saltine diet) and then I came home.