What You Are Laughing At

I Can't Tell If Those Are Horns, But That Is Some Serious Bull

Last night sucked. Major suckage. Hoover-like vacuum of fun last night. I'm fighting a cold, I got dissed on a job I applied for because I don't have enough retail experience (who thought a LACK of time folding shirts would be a negative?), had a dismal set at Pegasus (hey, let's have more talking in the side of the room, okay now the back... ridiculous), got home at a decent hour and then had a Tourette's-like phone conversation on Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Jell-O Shots between the times of 2:46am and 3:50am. Then I couldn't fall back to sleep so I had to write about all the crap I stepped in and over yesterday. I need a walk and about 250 knuckle push-ups right NOW.

My life is truly grand on an overall scale. I'm doing the best I can to just be myself. To be honest, I can be a handful. I run at about 40% of MySelf when I'm at work, and closer to 60% when I'm away from work in the real world. The moments when I'm most myself are when I have a little leeway to talk and could give a sh*t about how they feel about me. For the most part, I consider myself to be a good man. I don't have to step into the ring to feel good about myself, but when I'm in there, regardless of the opponent, I prefer bare-knuckling it. If you're gonna fight, FIGHT. Otherwise, don't waste my time. Yeah, I'm one bad white boy.

Cube neighbor is trying to remember the Scarecrow's lines from "Wizard Of Oz," and reciting them out loud. Why can't she blog like the rest of us? If she only had a blog.

And that's why I don't write blogs when I'm dehydrated.
Best be movin' on,
Geoffers

"I'm the Dude, man." ~The Dude, "The Big Lebowski"