Fuck it.

Meh.

Unfortunately, there's a gauntlet of bars between anywhere I'm at, and my house. So I stopped in to a couple. Let's go down my to-do list:

Eat too much: check
Drink too much: check
Send angry drunken texts to an ex girlfriend: check
Wake up with hangover and nausea: check
Apology phone calls: check

It's all pretty standard. Really.

Mad props to Q-Ball for sending me home before I got too wasted.

goochout




I have to get out of Troutucky. I've had enough of it. It's a cess pool. It's a tourist town with no tourist attractions. It's just a bunch of bars and people that work in bars. The people that don't work in the bars spend 8 hours a day at a bar and brag about the fact that they know the owner/bartender/cocktail waitress/bus boy and that the bar is, in a sense, "theirs." Fucking douchey. Sorry I don't want to sit in a bar for a full work shift's worth of time listening to someone brag about how much they spend on alcohol. I don't trust anyone with whom I speak. I have never known a place where so many people have fucked over so many other people. Just know that if you live in Troutdale and you're talking to me that I will believe that half of what you say is bullshit and the other half is a douchestravaganza. Oh, and that it's very likely that I hate you.