I'd like to start this off on a positive note. I fucking RAPED at Risk on the Playstation 2. Oh yes, everyone's favorite classic boardgame of world domination has gotten a revamped facelift in one of the most unnecessary moves in the video game industry's history.
I also won two out of four $2.00 Texas Hold 'Em games. Eat shit and die.
Now, for the bad. I lost $20.00 in the big people's Texas Hold 'Em game. Lost quite badly, too. Lost to Ace/Six with my Ace/Five. Lost to pocket queens to finally push me out for a seventh place finish (Jake was so kind as to suck more than me. We both blame it on the oh-so comfortable computer chair we both lost in consecutively). Oh yeah, and Andr�s gave me a good socking to the gut for no reason. I'm tellin' you, I'm only gonna take, like . . . six more hits like that until I start considering fighting back. You just wait, Andr�s. I'm drinking milk. My mom says milk helps you grow big and strong, so one day, you're gonna wish you hadn't picked on me so much!
I didn't plan on drinking two nights in a row, especially after punching James in the face and knocking him out the previous night. But, when you lose that early on, you've gotta wallow your sorrows away in some Arrogant Bastard Ale.
See, here's the thing. Kon had a couple of his buddies in town for a night of drinking at the bars. Names: Brian and John. Initials: B and J. Anyway, this was Friday night and, you know, I'm a hard worker-man who gets up at five o' clock in the blowjobbing morning, so I was pretty beat come 9pm or so. We all went anyway and the Irish Emigrant really sucked some stiff ones right off the bat. $3.00 cover for a crappy two-man cover band who bites liberally from Steve Miller, Tom Petty, and Tesla's repertoire. The place was packed to the gills for some mind-boggling reason, so we went upstairs in this little out-of-the-way nook that was making my nipples hard with sub-par temperature. We ordered pitchers of PBR and I was dismayed to find it tasting like watered-down, thirty year old, flat Bud Light. Yeah, so we ordered a second pitcher of PBR and I had to give my glass away and start drinking something with a little more non-pisswater flavor.
If I had my druthers, you see, we would've started our night at Earls. However, after about an hour at the Emigrant, observing, at the end, one of the poorest spectacles ever witnessed in Phone-Number-Getting 101, I was pretty down on the whole getting hammered thing. In other words, Earls was out. Funny thing is (depending on your perspective), we didn't really tell Kon, Andr�s or B.J., who were still waiting for their food at Jack in the Crack. Therefore, we needed a good cover story to tell them. And, the best we could come up with was how I got real rowdy and punched out James at Earls, thereby getting us all kicked out, forcing us into the bosom of Tommy's Nightclub.
Yep, the only problem is, James was still in our party, not seeming to have a problem being in my presence, without a single mark to the face corroborating our story. It took Kon and the rest about 0.2 seconds to realize we were full of shit. I tell you, that Konstantin Rondell Zak is a perceptive one.
Got a little more good news last Friday, though. Before our Flag Football game was postponed due to field-scheduling conflicts (see, here's the thing, I red-shirted my first two seasons in UW Flag Football, so that's why I get to keep playing well into my alumni days under an assumed Asscheckian name), at work, they alerted me to the fact that I'll be retained at the check-processing plant through the end of the month. Super bonus, man.
Oh, and hey, the voting process really isn't going our way lately. While it appears that Dino(saur) Rossi may in fact lose the governorship for our state (which does me just fine), it pales in comparison to the national voting trend. However, in a vote a little closer to home, my dad's union got the required 35 votes (2/3) necessary to put everyone on strike. Yeah, so they're gonna try to renegotiate, but odds are heavily against the boss relenting on anything. They've stockpiled enough work to allow for a good-sized chunk of inactivity and not go under. My dad figures to have about 5-weeks of living power saved up in the bank or whatnot. After that, I'm sure I'll be implimented to do some skull-thumping down at my dad's company headquarters. Set some of these douchetacular bungholes straight.
Smart. That's what you get when you have your union vote at a fucking tavern. Get a bunch of old dudes fucking hammered after they've just been shown how much their retirement is gonna suck, how they won't be getting much of a raise, and how they've all lost vacation time and then ask them Yay or Nay.
The timetable for me moving out of the house is January 2005. I should have my credit problems square, possibly get some money saved up, and ready myself for a $400 a month rent/utilities payment with Jake. We're looking at the Kent area. Somewhere NOT Tacoma and yet still south of Seattle so we won't have to pay those exorbitant rental prices. Yep, everything's coming up Milhouse!
Current Mood: Chilly Willy Pajama Pants are all the RAGE
Current Music: Tsunami Bomb - Say It If You Mean It
I got 6 more shots?
(Anonymous)
2004-11-15 01:17 am
That was a total douche thing to do. I'm sorry, after listening to drunken karoke (some song about a gay bar over and over again and pirate jokes) until 4:30 in the morning I was about to crack. And then came the noogies. I'm not making excuses and you can punch me in the stomach anytime you want.