Friday Morning

I've noticed something about myself--the quality of my life directly coincides with how messy my apartment is at that given time. The shittier things are, the messier the place gets. Right now it's a total sty. I'm rotting away within these walls, like two week old Chinese food. But you know, when you're trying to get your head together, a spic n' span apartment falls surprisingly low on your priorities list. So that cat hair on the rug will just have to be vacuumed another day, unless I happen to get a female visitor over here--and let's just say I'm not holding my breath on that one.

I haven't had any fun in THAT regard for a little while now, the last time being a rendevous in a parked car with a girl I met back in 2002. I actually wrote about it on this blog at the time it happened, but later on I decided the post was tacky and I deleted it. (I've done that a few times before, you know.) I didn't think she knew about this blog, so I wasn't exactly worried about her finding about about how I wrote about our, shall we say, "encounter." But either way, I went to delete it--and when I did, some dickhead reader of mine had already posted a comment on the blog insinuating that I made the whole thing up. Yeah, sure... because as any reader of this blog knows, I'm ALWAYS bragging about what a stud I am, right? Then, this other dude... one that I actually somewhat know... posts a comment with some personal shit about me and calls me a loser, or something to that effect. I don't really remember. That's why I no longer allow comments on this blog. Not that I give a fuck what that guy thinks about me or anything like that. Perish the thought! Number one, I freely admit that I'm a loser. Number two, this dipshit calling me a loser would be like Richard Simmons calling me effeminent. Sometimes, you've just got to consider the source, you know? But I'm not having my personal information (i.e. where I work, the shitheap I drive, where I live, etc.) posted on this blog. Fuck that. I spill my guts enough as it is.

Things are looking up, though, however slightly. I think I may have finally gotten over "what's her name" for good, and I recently met a girl who actually seems charmed by my mess of a life. I'm thinking of inviting her over soon... and I hope she accepts.

It'll give me a good excuse to clean this dump.