I didn't write this. I just followed a link from fark.com.

1. Avoid alliteration. Always.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
4. Employ the vernacular.
5. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
6. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
7. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
8. Contractions aren't necessary.
9. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
10. One should never generalize.
11. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
12. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
13. Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. Be more or less specific.
15. Understatement is always best.
16. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
17. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
18. The passive voice is to be avoided.
19. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
20. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
21. Who needs rhetorical questions?
22. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.

I am attempting to broil a steak.

This should be funny.

If I don't die in a fire somehow.

Saturday night was a fucking sausage fest.

When I first arrived, I talked to EwokGirl for a bit. She was wearing her DaveFest shirt. Surreal. Then EwokGirl's husband complimented me on my Rogue Smoke selection.

All I did all night was sit and listen to a bunch of semi-regulars that I don't know yack and yammer about stuff that I had no interest in listening to.

I guess one thing that was kind of cool was that there were a bunch of people from Russia or some other heavily-accented country, and one of the guys recognized me from my 'blog and from the whole DaveFest thing. None of them bought any shirts, though.

To drink, I had three Rogue Chocolate Stouts (676). They were yummy.

...that I'm a decent person.

Not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. But I'm basically a good and kind person.

This is a huge problem.

Women do not want decent and kind. Women want dangerous and callous and unpredictable. Women want someone that needs fixing.

And, if they don't find a flaw right away, they'll poke and prod and dig until they do find something wrong.

The problem is, the problem is that the further they have to dig to find the problem, the harder it will be to fix.

And some things are beyond repair.

First things first. Yesterday I had the first half of the day off work, but at noon I had to go to Churchill Downs for a work thing.

I guess I'm kind of anti-horseracing. It just seems a little cruel to me, especially when they use the whips. Maybe that makes me a pansy. I dunno.

Here's a picture I took:

Anyway, that's how I spent the day Friday.

Friday night I was on my way to Rich O's, and I ran into VigilanteGirl in the parking lot at the GasNStuff. So I talked to her for a half-hour or so. This was quite disconcerting because she was looking very sexy. I displayed willpower that I didn't know I possessed by keeping my eyes locked on her own. Mostly. Drift was inevitable, and understandable, I think. Damn she's hot.

She bought a DaveFest shirt. That was nice of her.

So by the time I left GasNStuff, I was running late, but I still needed to eat something, so I stopped at the haunted Burger King for a quick meal.

While I was waiting for my food, my cousin Jeff called to let me know that he'd be coming by Rich O's later to get his DaveFest shirt.

When I finally arrived at the bar, it was crowded as fuck. A couple of PBDs were on the loveseat. ActualGeorge was at the kiddie table, and strangers and assholes were everywhere else. How could I tell the difference between strangers and assholes? I'm glad you asked. The assholes were the ones sitting on the sofa, eating, and drinking fucking water.

Water.

What a bunch of assholes.

Anyway, I stood at the end of the bar and had myself a yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout (576) and glared at the assholes. At one point I went and sat with ActualGeorge for a while but then WomanRepellant came in so I went back and stood with him.

It was pretty boring, but I didn't mind too much.

After a while the strangers left the island so WomanRepellant and I and some PBDs went and sat there.

My second beer was a half-pint of Rogue Smoke (100). I like that beer (another DaveFest selection) a lot, but I wanted to save room for more Chocolate Stout.

At about the time Jeff arrived, The PBDs were leaving the loveseat, so we went and sat there. Then the assholes left the sofa and the throne.

Yay!

I guess that was pretty much it. I gave Jeff his DaveFest shirt, and we sat and talked for the rest of the night. A couple of times somebody would come in and interrogate me about DaveFest, and I did my best to sound humble about the thing. But it's hard to be humble when you're me, I suppose. At least when you're me and people are wearing shirts with your likeness on the front.

Oh yeah, that one girl that looks like Ella came in and sat out front. With her was, I shit you not, the hottest girl who has ever sat foot in Rich O's. You could hear straining zippers all over the place as erections formed on every man there.

So the night was pretty tame. WomanRepellant joined Jeff and me in the living room, and I had a couple more Rogue Chocolate Stouts (616) before they started kicking everybody out of the place.

I keep telling myself that this would be an easy thing to do.

And that it would be the right thing to do.

I look back at the last several weeks, and I see that there's nothing stopping me.

And by nothing I of course mean nobody.

There's nobody stopping me.

There's nobody worth stopping for.

I should do this.

It would make things a lot easier, in the long run.

Timing is everything.

I keep saying that.

But only because it's so fucking true.

I really should do this.

But not tonight.

Tonight I'm busy.

Or I will be very shortly.

Damn she's hot.

Timing...

I'd already planned on going to Rich O's. I'm off for the first half of the day tomorrow, so that means that my Thursday night is free. So I was going anyway.

Then I got the latest Publicanista! email from Rich O's. I'm sure that it said some other stuff, but nothing, I mean no-o-o-o-thing was even close to the importance of this:

The Rogue distribution rights have transitioned back to North Vernon Beverage Co., the pallet was delivered on Wednesday afternoon, and Dave's two faves are ON TAP now:
Rogue Chocolate Stout and Rogue Smoke

Once I got there, I took notes.

8:25
I arrive. There are probably people here, but I don't care. I grab my favorite seat at the bar and order a Rogue Chocolate Stout (526).

Yay!

8:30
Oh, dark master, how I've missed your frothy presence.

8:35
That one chick's voice cuts through everything. No wonder her husband always looks so miserable.

8:37
I hope these two fuckers next to me don't babble like that all night. They're ruining my special moment.

8:40
I should have stopped and eaten something on the way here. That failure will undoubtedly cost me later, when it causes me to cut myself off early.

8:50
First there was A, and A consumed me. Then B came along and distracted me from A. B was a very welcome distraction. But now A had lost its power, and I wonder what will become of B. Should I start looking for C?

8:53
For those keeping score at home, these fuckers still haven't shut up.

8:56
I should write about reactionary idiots, but I'm worried about what the reactions would be. I think that's irony or some such.

9:00
The fuckers are talking about high school soccer. Kill me now.

9:02
PotatoGirl is wearing horizontal stripes. What is she thinking?

9:04
WomanRepellant is here. He still owes me for his DaveFest shirt.

9:05
Scratch that. He just paid me.

9:07
Today we had to go to this Famous Dave's place for lunch. Despite the cool name, it's not my favorite place. I had a beer that was new to me:

Spring Heat Spiced Wheat (12)

(draft) Touted as being "like Blue Moon" and I suppose that's not too much of a lie. A decent Belgian wheat, but with lagerish undertones and a touch too much citrus. Kind of a blend of Belgian and American wheats.

9:15
Another Rogue (546).

9:16
This one girl that works here, I used to call her HatGirl before The HatGirl came into my life. So now this girl needs a new nickname. I think I'll call her KillerBodyGirl. Yeah, that's it. KillerBodyGirl. It has a nice ring to it.

9:25
Speaking of HatGirl, I texted her as soon as I found out that the Rogue was on tap. No response.

9:26
I'm reminded that I'm supposed to be mad, or at least disappointed, with one of my friends. Right now, I don't care.

9:29
The babbling fuckers have finally left, and PestoBoy has moved to the other end of the bar. Yay! Now there's room for hot girls! Bring on the hot girls!

9:31
Seriously, bring on the hot girls.

9:32
I'm thinking that I might have a Rogue Smoke next. I waited a long time for it, too.

9:47
Piss time.

10:04
Been talking to BreakfastDude.

10:15
Trying to talk ElPresidente into buying a DaveFest shirt. He claims to have no money.

10:21
Another Rogue Chocolate Stout, but I only drink half (556).

10:35
ElPresidente wants a shirt, but I think I'm out of his size.

10:37
I sold him the shirt I'd reserved for my friend Eric. Oops.

10:50
DooRagGirl is here. Yay!

11:05
Ordering a Diet Coke.

11:09
Piss time.

11:16
DooRagGirl is leaving. WomanRepellant lived up to his nickname.

11:17
I'm outta here.

I haven't done one of these horoscope thingies in a long time. Probably because I think it's a bunch of hogwash.

My horoscope for this week from Free Will Astrology:

According to my analysis of the astrological omens, you're about to turn into a creative powerhouse--and will remain so for at least a few weeks. That means you'll be at the peak of your ability to conjure up artistic masterpieces. But more than that: You will also have uncanny skill at whipping up fresh, crisp solutions to conundrums that have stymied you and your tribe for a long time. It will almost be as if you have found a way to tap into the future, where you can learn novel ways of seeing that are impossible to access in the present.

So, according to this guy, maybe my creative slump will soon come to an end. Maybe I'll finally take some of these ideas and thoughts bouncing around in my head, and actually make something out of them.

That could be cool. Because maybe then I could get some of these voices to shut up for a while. By providing a platform for their ramblings, maybe I could placate them.

Because I have plenty of crap rattling around in my head, I'm just having a hard time writing any of it out.

There once was another time when my head was just as busy as it is now, but back then the problem was a different one. Back then, it was like being caught in the middle of a storm. There didn't seem to be time to breathe let alone try to form a coherent sentence.

Now, now the problem is one of motivation.

I just don't seem to care enough about what I'm thinking or feeling to even bother writing it out. And, if I don't care, that pretty much guarantees that none of you will care either.

Talked to SassyGirl tonight. She's been laying low since JauntyGirl is out of town.

She sent me a shitload of pictures from the first night of DaveFest. Some of the pictures are suitable for public viewing.

Going clockwise, my sister Neisha, her husband Chris, my lovely self, my other sister Dina, her husband Kenny, DooRagGirl, and SassyGirl.

Pretty much the same people as before, with JauntyGirl added next to SassyGirl, and WheatDude and MisunderstoodGirl on the loveseat.

That's GlassesGirl talking to Neisha.

DooRagGirl got fucked up.

SassyGirl trying to embarrass me.

Shortly after this picture was taken, things got out of hand. Sexual harrassment took place. I liked it.