I am going to start referring to myself as bigfangoon from now on. Thanks P. Don't know why. Well, I do know why, but its none of y'alls goddamn business. Sorry, I overreacted there.
Maybe, its because I have reduced life into a series of running jokes, drinking escapades, sporting events and of course the ubiquitous Ashton.* I don't know, but I look around and see people getting there shit together, married having kids, or least trying to go down that road and I say to myself. "Self, wtf are you doing?" I guess I should feel like life is passing me by, but I don't. Self, in fact generally replies, "There, but for the grace of tiny, weepy eyed baby Jesus, go I." "You go self." I say and have another beer. I think I have mentioned before, introspection is not really what I do. As you can see, I'm not just saying that, this really is the depth of my internal dialogue.
In fact, the only non-work related bitch I have is about BBA and Sandra D moving. They are leaving in September. To fucking FLA, seriously, I hate the south. I guilted BBA into staying until after the first week of the NFL season because the Cowboys and Giants play. Which leaves me virtually friendless if you don't count xsils and waitresses at the 7EO. But, as hunter s. thompson said, " i hate to advocate drugs,alcohol, insanity, wreckless behavior, sexual deviance,
wander lust and and a complete lack of concern for the future to anyone
but......in my case its worked." So there.
Speaking of BBA he has dared me to use a line on women, and of course I can't turn down a dare. Here's the line, "Hey, baby, I'll make your throat famous!" What do you think? Ladies... Anyone...? Ok, I'll let you know how that works out.
Far from the center of civilization, this is bigfangoon signing off.
*If you don't know, don't ask!