The Drunken Blog

If you’ll recall, Ghost Writer was a pedophilic ghost who would help middle school kids solve mysteries in a twisted game of hangman by revealing only certain words or letters and making the kids guess who the deviant was. You can basically think of Ghost Writer as the live action version of Scooby Doo, where the ghost would be Scooby Doo, except replace “stoner” with “pedifiliac”.

You might have assumed that a ghost did not actually write this because I’m not in middle school, and therefore Ghost Writer wouldn’t waste his time with me, but what you may not have guessed is that I have a team of real live writers dedicated to making me look good through the written word.

I fired them.

Really, it was about hygiene, keeping a room full of monkeys with typewriters is downright disgusting. Too often they would start arguing over the phrasing of a particular sentence and before you know it the feces flinging would begin. I was spending half of my ad revenue on bleach and toothbrushes (don’t ask). I figure that while my writing may be less entertaining now and therefore garner less income for me, the drop won’t be 50% and I’ll still be ahead of my monkey-poo depleted net income.
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This is going to sound wrong, but bear with me. I often wonder what it would be like to be the most attractive girl in a room. What I mean by that is to be actively pursued by all of the eligible people in the room, and I specified attractive girl because if I was the most attractive guy in the room, well, girls typically don’t approach guys in the same way that a guy will approach an attractive girl. Also, you could go up to ten different girls and they would all give you a different definition of what a hot guy looks like (among the layman, anyway), unless it is someone universally hot like Brad Pitt. But, if you go up to 10 guys and ask what a hot girl looks like, they will all give you almost the same exact description, and the best part is, that description is not of some supermodel or Hollywood actress, it could be the porn star that’s in the room with you right now.

And while I will never know what if feels like to have everybody in the room pine over me, I did get a small taste of it the other night, and I have to say, it was odd. Being actively pursued, being the one that gets to say yes or no, that is an odd feeling.

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Not surprisingly, I was tired all day Friday from going out on Thursday. Fortunately, I didn’t have to work so I was able to relax. I did, however, have some errands to run so I completed them, saw Ratatouille with Mary, who was also enjoying a vacation before she started her new job on Monday as well.

After the movie I took a quasi-nap to get ready for that night’s festivities. I was informed that we would be doing a Reston bar crawl. I wasn’t too excited about this because, to be honest, I’m not a hug fan of the Reston bar scene. The crowd is not what I’m used to; it’s an older more sophisticated crowd. I enjoy the uncomplicated debaucheries of college-aged kids. Additionally, the bars are priced like DC junior, that is to say the drinks ain’t cheap. They aren’t horribly expensive, either, but they require you to pregame heavily before you begin your drinking adventure.

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I feel as if this post is going to be the staple post for this blog. I am somewhat intoxicated - forgive me for typos and incoherent sentences /paragraphs /thoughts /ideas /words /etc. (apparently sober enough to drive home 30 miles, though), talking about an event that involved alcohol, and also lesbians. I don’t think I have had a more definitive post yet.

There is one deciding factor that makes a party great; one single thing that can make horrible party awesome, and at the same time make an awesome party. That thing, of course, is a potential prospect. Somebody that you feel that you have a chance to hook up with. Whether or not you actually hook up with this person is irrelevant, the fact that you think you might makes or breaks a party.

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