I went to bed around 1:30. I guess I slept. The next thing I knew was it was
9:00 and I was awake and Buddy was singing his song of starvation in my
face.
Sadness achieved.
(bottle) Indigo with a nice tan head. Enticing aroma of peaches and plums. Mouthfeel a little thin but coating. Flavor more tame than the aroma led me to expect. Good though.
I have a crush on this Purple Kelly chick.
I'm in a ranty mood. I will attempt to restrain myself. Nobody deserves the
words I want to say.
It would be cool if I could bring Buddy to work. Once his fur grows back out, I mean.
I just caught myself glaring at my phone.
Maybe those ten hours of sleep will prove to be enough. I think I feel
better this morning.
This is stupid. I'm going to bed.
The problem is that no food is good.
This guy at stupid Bearno's is the worst bartender in history.
I feel guilty. I suck.
I'm totally unmotivated this morning. I kinda want to just go back to bed, but even that seems like too much effort.
I don't feel like I should sleep tonight. I feel like, tonight, I should stay up. I wish I had beer.
I might be sick. That's all I need.
I was all set to write that I was worried because I hadn't seen Picklepie
since Sunday morning, but then he showed up.
Now I'm at stupid Bearno's. I forget why.
Hmmm, the one dude should be wearing the same clothes, and the other dude
should be dressed differently.
I want to write a manifesto now.
Seriously? No kidding? Okay, fine.
(draft) Black with a tan head that faded quickly. Malty aroma. Thin mouthfeel. Decent flavor of malts and licorice. Disgusting hoppy metallic finish. Gross.
Now maybe everyone will shut up about how happy they are about the rain.
Storms and tornadoes all day today, and I'll be stuck at work like a chump.
Got sucker-punched by a buddy this evening. I probably deserved it.
Goodnight, cruel world.
Oh boy, the world's most closeted guys are here.
I liked the old Elector girl better. She looked more like HatGirl.
DeadLady is here.
Yes, still. Get over it.
(bottle) Black with a nice beige head. Aroma of roasted malts and chocolate and licorice. Thick mouthfeel. Flavor milder than I was expecting. Quite good.
I'm thinking that I'm going to be selfish and childish about this.
OddlyFamiliarGirl flaked on me. I'm not sure I'm up to the task of
distracting myself tonight.
I am officially starving to death. I may not have the strength in me, but I
need to try to go to the stupid store. The problem with going to the stupid
store when I'm starving is that I buy one of everything. And I have no idea
what I'm hungry for. Something I can eat with chopstick, maybe? Like Lucky
Charms.
That's exactly what I thought would fucking happen.
Well, that was, um, interesting.
People suck, especially the ones at the haunted Burger King.
I'm worried that a possum stole my rock.
The problem with a good time is that it makes me remember great times. The problem with remembering great times is that it makes me wish for fantastic times.
I had a nice night. Now I'm having a nice Marzen. In a bit, I'll go to my nice bed.
My blackberry spell checker thinks "mu" is a word.
I want to know what's so damn interesting.
In about 90 minutes, I get to go to bed!
I was just thinking about a really great day, and it made me smile.
I moved to the bar to get away from a pair of weirdoes, but an even weirdoer pair came in and sat next to me at the bar.
I'm all sneaky and stuff...
Maybe I wasn't the one who failed...
After sleeping on it, I've decided that it just doesn't count.
Too long of a wait, too close, and now way too far away.
(draft) Black with a thin brown head. Sweet and chocolatey aroma. Very creamy mouthfeel. Flavor is sweet, with malts and a bit of dark chocolate. Alcohol very well-hidden. Good.
Hi!
Some old woman is here today instead of CartGirl.
I've been sleeping too much.
Also, I was going to say something clever now, but I forgot. Your loss, I
suppose.
If that's the last thing I get to tell her, I can live with that.
That's what I think.
I had a feeling that would work. Goodnight, cruel world.
Sausagefest at Jack's. I miss OddlyFamiliarGirl.
I'm feeling very writey tonight, but I'm not feeling particularly topicky.
See, I'm just making up words now.
What great about English is that you can say, "Fucking fuck that fucking
fucker!" and your meaning is perfectly clear.
The question is - what's the easy thing?
Even Will Ferrell can't do anything for this stinker of a movie.
Went to the house of a million cats, but only counted a half-million. Now I'm at Rich O's.
I think I proved my point. And I don't feel mean at all. Just tired.
Sometimes something is worse than nothing.
I hate people.
Finally...
This day is dragging. In about 800 million years I'll get to go home.
It's a wild goose chase!
And I think about the things on the other side of this wall we slammed into.
That's funny.
I'm not supposed to think about that!
Harumph!
What a long day at work!
I was up too late, and I got up too early. I predict that I'll be very tired
before this day is over.
Wow, I'm up way too late. How did that happen?
Home now. Wishing I could help more. Wishing I mattered more.
All done yelling and shopping. Nappy-time I think.
Now I'm at Sportstime. I'm going to eat and then maybe glare at my phone for a while.
Taking a vacation day to go yell at everyone.
I think this is the first time I've ever owed any money for taxes.