2003-12-31 - 8:14 a.m.

Fuck.

Fuck my alarm clock.

What business does it have waking me up at 6 effin fifteen in the morning on a Wednesday?

Oh, yeah…that IS what it does. That IS its business.

But I went to bed at two I plead.

I plead…my case.

You know sometimes you don’t realize how truly drunk you are until you wake up the next day.

And I really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really

really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really reallyreally really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really reallyreally really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really didn’t want to wake up this morning.

It wasn’t so much as waking up as it was forcing myself to be conscious.

And vertical.

HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE! I did my partying a day early.

Holy Jesus.

My new year’s resolutions are as follows:

Drink more with good friends.

Love my life.

Don’t go to the emergency room for any reason.

Kiss girls.

See rock shows.

Stay in the moment.

Write things down.

Eat human flesh.

Just kidding.

About last night.

We had a traveling party at CityWalk.

We traveled to two places.

The first place we had dinner. We had an angry waiter named August.

I’m not sure why he was angry…but he was.

Maybe he was angry because his name was August.

My friend Y shared with me that he knew another guy named August and that he was also an angry man.

We deduced that the name August makes the bearer automatically angry.

Forgive me for I am still drunk right now.

I was scared of our waiter. He gave me an incredibly hard time while ordering my omelot. That is NOT how you spell omelet. He kept telling me my ingredient choices were unavailable but yet they were there on the menu.

Whatever.

The food was big, the plates were big and the bill was big.

I had two drinks called A.M.F.’s. It stands for Adios Mother Fucker.

Apparently they were like Long Island Iced Teas, but blue.

They were served in big plastic wine carafes, with lots of cherries and a straw.

Did I mention I had two of them?

There was a waiter there that looked like Jamie Kennedy. We were sure we would be “X’ed” at any moment. So, if a giant sized chicken walked through the bar, or an 80 year old male stripper came in to dance for me, we were prepared. We would not be fooled by his Jamie Kennedy Experiment antics. Oh no… We had his number.

But nothing happened.

We didn’t ride the bull.

But I did take the absolutetest CUTEY PIE picture of my best girl friend while she was pissing on the toilet. OH MY GOD she looks friggin cute in that picture.

It was doubly funny cuz when I was taking the pictures over the door in the bathroom, there was a momlady holding the stall door closed for her child right next to me watching me and I’m sure she disagreed but I didn’t care cuz I was buzzed as hell.

I’ll have to make the executive decision at some point to post my best girl friend’s toilet picture on here. She is so cute you will piss your own pants.

Dockers.

Nice Pants.

Why did you pee in them?

I peed in them cuz the girl on the toilet is so friggin cute!@!

K…then we traveled to a place where they had dueling pianos and karaoke. A couple of my friends are singers and they sang.

My girl friend singer did Sweet Child O Mine by GNR and she kicked arse.

Somehow, I ended up drinking two drinks at any given time.

I had four rum and cokes total at the karaoke place.

It was some type of USC rally at Citywalk and everywhere you looked there was red and gold.

Red and gold, red and gold, red and gold.

Everywhere.

And apparently they have a theme song wherein they spell stuff. I don’t know. But I was told Michigan sucks.

A lot. They suck a lot.

But anywayz.

There was a couple making out at the side of the piano/karaoke stage. So the piano guys and mc guys said it was make out time and they shone…shined?…flashlights on the make out couple.

Then they said they were going to have an official make out session and they started a countdown.

Here’s the funny part. And the funny part was verified by several people…so I know it was truly funny. It may not turn out that way on paper.

Okay…so we were all down in front making quite the spectacle of ourselves during this whole evening and when he started counting down to make out time, my best girl friend and I both stood up and started doing stretching exercises….calf stretches, arm over head waist stretches, jumping jacks, waist turns, all the while the guy is couting down from ten.

Nine…..

Eight…

Calf stretch…

Seven

Waist turns…

Six….

Arm over head

Five

Four

Quad stretch..

Three

Jumping jacks

Two

One….

Then her and I catapult into a full on, legs wrapped around each other, hands groping everywhere make out session. Tongues included.

The mc’s commentated, we were applauded, flashlights were shone shined upon us, flashbulbs went off.

It was pretty funny.

We blew the heterosexual maker outers away.

And I was reminded of what a good kisser my friend was. We spoke about it and later on I pulled her into a janitorial alcove in a parking structure and we made out for one minute over a bucket and mop for no real reason other than I wanted to kiss her again without an audience.

Anyway.

So we met the drummer for Suicidal Tendencies. Or so he said. Whichever way or whoever the hell he was it was his birthday and he was only 22 and he was funny as hell. My tongue touched his at one point by accident. I think I have a picture of that.

I took a lot of pictures.

The only time I got up on stage was to be a background dancer for a really fat man who sang some song I can’t remember now.

I think there’s some pictures of that too.

My best girl friend took front cleavage and ass cleavage pictures of me.

Why? I don’t know.

I think she took ass cleavage pics because I had on my fancy new gstring underwear that has a cute red rose right on the ass crack so when you bend over your little rose shows like a dot over the I of your ass crack.

Did I mention I’m still drunk?

It had better be a half day here at work cuz I can’t function anyway.

And I’m just realizing that this will be my last post of the year.

It’s been MY PLEASURE typing away to you all big void of nothing ness and invisibility. One thing I realized when my computer was sick was that I really need to write crap to make me feel complete. I just need a place to put it, ya know?

So thanks for being a warm place for me to put it.

Have a happy, safe, terroist free new year.

Go on…get outta here…

*****The above post has NOT been spell checked for your safety******

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