Saturday of Doom
The party that I hosted on Saturday turned into a big fuckin’ mess … for me at least. After looking forward to it for a couple of months I let someone ruin my day. I am pretty picky about who gets invited to my house and who doesn’t. Thus, if I know you and you never get invited to any of my parties, take that as a hint that I don’t like you. My good friends know this as well. About mid-day on Saturday someone I can’t stand … that I have a completely irrational hatred for … walked into my house. I smiled, said “welcome” and promptly drunk myself into a total blackout. I guess that I just didn’t want to see the eventual lap sitting, hugging, clingy, pay attention to me shit that was bound to go down. Grrrr. From what I understand everyone there had a great time watching zombie films while I was comatose on the roomie’s bathroom floor.

I think I need to stop drinking altogether. I think I need to be a grown up and deal with things constructively as opposed to destructively.

Yep. Gonna have a really hot time tonight. I got to beat it to Lowe’s for some more drywall screws and then I plan to screw some more sheet rock to the wall. Whoo.

And then maybe I’ll entertain myself with some porn. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll read some more in “Magical Thinking.” Maybe. Or maybe I’ll watch the dvd that came with the Nirvana box set. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll have a drink or two to relax. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll watch a horror film. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll straighten up the house since there’s gonna be some people over tomorrow. Maybe.

Wow. The possibilities for a Friday night are endless.

Since I was gonna get a lecture from The Man, I figure I had better clarify a statement from yesterday. It’s not that I will be calling Evil and getting him over to my place on Wednesday night. Far from it. I quit that a long time ago. But, last time he was in town he made an appearance before the first evening was out. Previous time before that, he stopped by the house with beer before going to his folk’s place. There’s a wee bit of a track record. I say the chances of seeing him tomorrow evening are 80-90%.

Does he read this? Don’t know. Don’t care. But, I would be surprised if he didn’t know about this little place on the web. Enough of our mutual friends do.

1. The Singer wrote me back and said “thanks.” He now knows that I am alive.
2. Evil is gonna be in town for four days starting Wednesday.
3. Wanna take bets on who will be at my house Wednesday evening?
4. The electrician comes to rewire my bedroom this evening.
5. That means I get to start hanging drywall. Whee!

I got kidnapped from my house on Saturday and forced to go out with some friends. We went to a local coffee house and saw a semi-local band play. That’s when I fell in love … with the singer from the band. How sad is that? Cute, dark hair, great voice and a killer smile. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The friends that I was with insist that he was checking me out as well. He did look my way quite a bit … but it was probably a “I wish that creep would quit staring at me” kinda thing. I hate seeing new people that I am interested in. All those insecurities rise to the surface and turn me into a shy bastard … well, more shy than I already am. Grrrr. So, this morning I dug up his email off the band’s site and sent him the few pictures I shot. I wonder if he’ll get the hint. You can guarantee that I’ll be back when they play again in a few weeks.