Had to work for a while last night, so I didn't get to Rich O's until a little before 10:00.

The parking lot was empty, but inside was the usual Friday night crowding. I sat on the sofa and had a Rogue Chipotle Ale (42), which is on tap for a while. It was decent, but that's all.

Talked to UplandWheatDude and WomanRepellant for a while until I started feeling claustrophobic, then I moved over to the island. There, I had about 10 seconds to myself before a bunch of people joined me. It was okay though. I probably needed the distraction.

My second and third beers were Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbiers (1371). I guess technically that's the last of the DaveFest beers. I'm pretty sure that it's been on tap nonstop since DaveFest started.

Once they started kicking everyone out, I came home and glared at my phone.

This is important.

If I could figure this out, if I could manage to wrap my mind around it, if I could just manage to make fucking sense of what's in my head tonight long enough to put it into words - well then I'd have really accomplished something here.

If I can pull this entry off then I'll garner some credit from my readers. I just know it. I'll be able to write crap and drivel and mundane bullshit for days, maybe even weeks before people start to wander off again.

Way to fucking pressure yourself, Dave.

Now I need a drink.

This idea is important. I don't want to waste it, the way I've wasted so many others, by just spewing words. I want to make people think for a change.

I want them to think about their own justifications and their own excuses for the things that they do. Or don't do. Whatever. I want them to think about how there is a difference between being standing your ground and being paralyzed with fear. Between giving up and moving on. Between desire and desperation, and between love and lust, and between selfishness and selflessness.

I want to make people think about themselves.

Is there a reason for things being the way they are, or is there only an excuse?

I wish I could write what's in my head tonight.

Truth is, I like them all. A lot.

They're all so unusual, so different from what's considered normal.

Normal is boring.

They should have a tour option where you can pee over the edge. I bet that would be very popular. Maybe not so much with the women.

So I guess you can't do a Grand Canyon floor landing unless it's from the West rim. I don't like the West rim. When I tried to go there last year the indians kept pissing me off.

So I've booked a trip to the South rim, to the official part of the park I guess. The canyon floor will have to wait for another time.

It's probably better this way. I've used a lot of symbolism in some of my writings. Stuff about canyons and chasms and such. This way I can stand at the edge of the canyon and reflect on shit. Like how I'm safe for the moment but it wouldn't take much of a misstep (or a push) to send me tumbling back down. The significance of this will no doubt be felt more strongly at the haunted South rim.

Anyway, for those of you planning to stalk me in Las Vegas on August 22nd, I won't be back until probably around 9:00 PM. I recommend the Nine Fine Irishmen at the New York New York casino if you're wondering where to kill some time while you await my return.

They tell me that there's a decent chance that this class will be cancelled, but for now I plan to be in Broomfield Colorado in September.

This should provide a nice backup opportunity for those who won't be able to stalk me in Las Vegas later this month.

I'd arrive on the 6th, attend training on the 7th and the 8th, then leave in the morning of the 9th.

I'm trying not to get too excited about this trip, but it's tough because I haven't been to the Denver area since 1999.

I'll provide more information as it becomes available.

I have this sort of recurring dream. Not the dream itself, really, but the theme of the dream.

It pisses me off.

What happens in these dreams is that I find myself getting back together with a certain person. A certain person who, in my waking life, I hope to never even see again for as long as I live. In fact, I've told my sisters that I don't even want this person coming to my funeral, should that opportunity arise.

But in my fucking dreams, we get back together. And I'm happy. And then she cheats on me. And then I'm miserable.

And then I wake up and I'm pissed at myself for having the dream.

Why I dream about that whore, I'll never know.

For a while there I was thinking that tonight might be one of those nights, one of those nights when I'd be able to write something halfway coherent.

I'm in a contemplative mood. My alcohol level is just right, thanks to this yummy Gulden Draak that's now almost completely gone.

All I needed was a subject. A few things flitted through my head a couple of hours ago, but none of them really caught my attention. I didn't worry though. I had plenty of time. I figured that I'd be able to come up with something before it was time to sit my ass down here and type.

I was wrong.

The only ideas in my head are either stupid, or boring, or they're just rehashes of the same old crap.

I almost forgot. Or I guess I did forget until just now.

There's a new NABC beer at Rich O's. I had a small sample of it on Saturday during the sausage fest, and then yesterday I had a full glass after work while I talked with OddlyFamiliarGirl.

New Albanian Strathpeffer Heather (23)

(draft) Dark gold. There's an unidentifiable (by me at least) aroma and flavor, both reminiscent of evergreen shrubbery. The finish is drying and long-lasting. It kind of reminds me of when I was a kid and I'd chew on Sassafras leaves. The finish is the most notable characteristic. A decent beer.