and she was like, “fuck Bush”

Here is writing for fun. As if I lived in my own apartment and nobody would ever see this. Funny that I am afraid to write. ‘Cause, you know, god forbid somebody see it. I don’t write, really, because I’m lazy. And when I do write I write about how I don’t write which, in actuality, is not really writing at all. I used to think I was more laid back than neurotic but now I’m not so sure.

If I were to write fiction it might sound stupid. Or like this. Which is seemingly enough stupid. Fuck stupid. I’m so tired of trying to not appear stupid. It probably makes me really weird to be around. There is no need to write down self revelations. You see, they are stupid.

Besides, I’m writing fiction right now.

You can tell, right? Alright, so here is this.

Make believe that it’s fiction. Get it? Yes, yes. Been had, had it. I miss it.

Writing, that is. If you don’t practice, it will go away.

I fell in love with weezer all over again a few days ago. We’ve been hanging out ever since.

Right before the first chorus in ‘say it aint so’ I get excited. Anxious. Excited how Jeffrey Dahmer got excited before he fucked corpses. Excited like your mom gets when Ross is having a 48 hour sale. Excited like I bet Rivers Cuomo gets right before he rips on that first chord in the chorus and it’s like… infinity…

Or something.

I started with a seven and seven and by the time they arrived we were ready for Irish car bombs. Previously I had deemed Irish car bombs “frat boy bullshit” but really I enjoy that dramatics of it. Plop a shot glass of half Baileys and half Jameson into a half a glass of Guiness and drink it as fast as you can. I always finish last.

Our previous plan of dinner and a movie was foiled by our self induced intoxication. So instead we sat around the table, dolled up for nothin’, and talked about crap. Later we decided to check out this place called CounterCulture in downtown Phoenix which turned out to be pretty cool. We ordered coffee and sat outside and there were others of similar looks and gayness doing the same despite the late hour. It had been a while since we were out on a Friday night that was not restaurant related.

We returned to the apartment and some friend’s of B&J’s decided to come over. It was a lesbian couple, go figure. Their names were Amy and Michelle. I know. One of them was a horribly beautiful black girl. She was tall and shaped and had flawless skin and high cheek bones and short, short, short curly hair. She spoke softly and had a nice smile. Her girlfriend was a much shorter, much stouter white girl with blonde hair in the middle and pink hair on the sides. She couldn’t stop moving, or talking. She talked a fucking lot. She overused the word “essentially”. She used it sometimes in the wrong context. After a while I think she realized how much she was saying “essentially” and started saying “in a sense” instead.

At this time I was, essentially, pretty drunk.

And I guess, essentially, I still am.