I Feel Like A Fucking Raisin

... and that's one of the side effects of spending the evening consuming approximately 14 gallons of beer on an empty stomach. I'm not hung over--not really, anyway--I just feel like... well, like a fucking raisin. No other similies are springing to mind at the moment.

It was worth the discomfort, though, because last night was the first time since summer that I went to a karaoke bar. And I was with a bunch of theatre people, so just about all of them were singers. Nothing's worse than going to a karaoke bar with a table full of pussies that are too scared to sing. These are the same people that have no problems making you listen to their obnoxious singing when you're in the car with them--but suddenly, when faced with an audience of drunken rednecks, they find humility. There were no such problems last night. Plus, I had all the beer I could drink and only spent six bucks. Too bad there were no single women around that were into ugly guys, otherwise it would have been an ideal night.

I'll have more later. Maybe some reader mail and shit like that. I'm hoping to have a new interview done within the next day or so, too--if the guy ever sends the questions back.

Bah. I need fluids. In a BIG motherfucking way.