Saturday, August 26, 2006

Oh, Saturday Morning Random Shit

So last night/this morning I lost $1,ooo but I wasn’t upset. I’m still up $2,000 for the week and will be sending it to the financial advisor in the morning as obviously I can’t have shit loads of cash readily available to me, I’ll just blow it at the casino or on toothless hookers, but they give the best beejers. My roommate was nice enough to drive me down, even though she doesn’t gamble, and stayed with me till 5:00 this morning. We were both wide awake at 5:30 this morning due to coke (the soda) and black coffee.

At the casino (writing this as the sun comes up, sorry, Busch Lite in hand), I was up $75 when I saw two friends sitting at a different table. Lost a little there, put me down for the night, went to a higher stakes table and lost the $1,000, so I blame it all on them (now it’s light enough that I can see the keyboard and I have two cans of beer in front of me, without my contacts in).

So, drunk and very tired mind you, I think every woman should consult/get advise from a gay guy about giving head. Who better to ask than a man who gives and receives? The first woman who gives me good head (that I remember in all my drunken stoopers) is the one I will marry (for at least six months as all marriages are doomed to fail). That said, I will never get married, either because I will not find the woman who can go down on eight inches of rock hard (or limp, depending on the beer consumption, although I can usually get hard, just can't cum to the climax) penis or I will not remember her going down on me in the morning (more likely the case). That said, I’m fucked (or not fucked as I don’t think I can list women who have given me head on “the list”). So goes my life.

Ok, now it’s getting really bright out, and I’m sitting on the deck with my shirt off drinking beer. Just had a guy pass by walking his dogs who said “Good morning,” which I replied to and he said “Nice Deck.” Thank you very kindly, I like my deck too, but the proper terminology should be not good morning, but “Dude, you’re fucked up beyond belief, you should go to bed and don’t fall off the monstrosity of a deck you built on the back of your house. Good luck since I can see you’re squinting at your laptop without your contacts in, man, you’re fucked.”

Now it’s getting really bright and I need to plug the laptop in.

I don’t remember shit from the bar tonight besides sharing chicken wings with the roommate, not a thing, just having a pitcher in front of me and downing it. Wonder why women don’t flock in my direction.

I would like to find the microphone for my computer and take down the hairdresser’s stories but I don’t know if I can re-write them and make them entertaining. I’m not a writer by nature (by far) and I don’t think I would do them justice. Once it gets cold out I think we’ll start, but if it ever goes anywhere there will have to be some major editing since my writing sucks (as far as I’m concerned).

I still can’t go to bed, 6:15, getting bright, and not tired at all, what the fuck. I want to get up early and hit the bank before noon (not going to happen), so I’ll have to give my dad $2,000 to hold on to so I don’t gamble it away or spend it on 20 blow jobs by toothless women. How do I explain that one to pops? Shit, I haven’t even explained the new roommate to them, and I spray cologne on myself every time I go over as I hope they don’t know I smoke (cigs only), how pathetic. Speaking of which, I think the dude/chic driving behind me today on the way home from work was lighting a bowl while driving, several times. I would too if I couldn’t tell if I were a guy or a broad (no actually I wouldn't).

Now it’s almost broad daylight, still sitting on the deck, shirtless with beer in hand and hat head. Pretty sure my dating life is fucked if any broad reads this blog, so I might as well go gay, increases my chances of getting laid by 50% right? Ok, I won’t go to those extremes. To all my friends reading this, I'M NOT GAY!!! Unless you have lots of money to share...

I love you all, chic in Madison, someone in Chicago, peeps in Caledonia/Muskego, even the person in DC with the "US COURTS" IP address (please don't report me, I'm really a nice guy, really), (no really, I'm a law abiding, tax paying, legal Potowatomi card holder {bastards who took me for $1,000}), and for the rest of you, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the show that is my life.

2 comments:

Diarrhea of the Mouth said...

i'm very hurt that u dont remember my blow jobs---lol

ULTIMATEBRAT said...

more practice woman---if his toes dont curl and his knees dont shake and his back doesn't arch and he doesn't forget ur name and refer to you as "oh god" then you need to try and try and try until he does :)