Drunken Socks

I'm very drunk.

I retract my "Fuck Christmas" sentiment.  Christmas at work was very good.  I was cheered by all my stupid friends stopping by.  Smooches.

Christmas sucks.

I had to work.  Very slow and sedate.  Then the meth head came in.  He wanted a ride.  I said no.  He beserked.  I talked him down.  He left.  I was scared.

Fuck Christmas.

Tell me how to kick out a roommate.

I love the guy.  I just can't live with the guy.  No comments from Dan.

Christmas blows.

Winter is close...

...to what I guess being close to suicide is like.  Maybe I'm just in a super-meh mood.  Or maybe I'm this way because it's cold.  My furnace is broken and I just saw Synecdoche, New York.  It's a little depressing and full of itself.  And long.  Is Hoffman in everything?  You want a spoiler?  IGNORE THIS IF NOT:  Live your life to the fullest.  I'm just gonna say that one can't do this.  What I saw proves that when a Chronicle reviewer can't do complexity they just give the movie 4 1/2 stars after incomprehensible jibber-jabber that reads "cool" and "review-y".  That and some jackass couldn't help laughing in the dire and depressing scenes.  Nothing really funny about the movie at all.  Not even in a dark way.  Ever seen Requiem for a Dream?  Down except for that hot double-donging scene.

Bye

Because I'm lazy.

Am tired.  Up too late.  Sick of work. 

If you haven't seen this, sorry.  You must.

Dude had balls:


UPDATE! Got my camera back: BOOM!

Sorry guys.

I'm having one of those "I can't stand blogging/Should I kill my blog?" moments.

Not much to talk about.  Need to get laid but all the girls I can with all want babies.  I'm allergic to babies.  Life-killers.

I did bowl 226 the other day.  It was hot.  I would have taken a photo of the score sheet but my camera is loaned out.

That is all.

Cute girls call me. 

Bad Day.

BeBe died.  A little girl longhair chihuahua that I really liked despite all her annoying tendencies. 

She bit it.  Hard.  Probably the only dog I've ever really loved.

I'm sad.