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from conan last night.
mr. mcgregor, you need to stop. i only have so many pairs of panties.
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oh my god, are those words?
it’s come to my attention that i never actually write anything. by write i mean type.. and by anything i mean anything worth a damn.
i’m going to contribute it to the fact that i’m not at a good place in my life. i used to post in my blog about anything and everything. these days i can barely muster three or four sentences. i guess i don’t really want to document any of this. it isn’t worth it. i want to look back and say, ‘damn. that sucked’ not go back and read a day by day account of it.
job finding is not going well for me. neither are friends. seems the only people worth a damn live in other states. that’ll change soon enough. i’ll go off into clichéland and say that next year is going to be different. i’m going to make it different, damnit.
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you know it’s going to be a great night when you’re falling out of the car and in puddles before you even get to the door.
best halloween yet? might be. i can’t hear, i have a ton of bruises, and quite a hangover. i had a blast.
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