Tuesday
January 25, 2005
Winter · 1 entry
Oooh, JRs. You fun, oft-pretentious fag saloon, you! This boy never drinks beer, but oooooh, three dollar pitchers will do it.
Yee-Ha I got drunk. Eric the ex is a bad influence!
Not the getting drunk, just the beer. Empty calories, I tell you!
I suppose I could go on teh beer diet. That works, right?
I need to learn to set the alarm before I leave, not when I get home, too, by the way. Cause, um, yeah, I fucked that portion of the competition up. The internal clock saved me, but booyakasha, I was scurred.
Oh, by the way, were you aware that there's a plethora of nascar poetry on the internet? Since when do trailers have high speed?
Yee-Ha I got drunk. Eric the ex is a bad influence!
Not the getting drunk, just the beer. Empty calories, I tell you!
I suppose I could go on teh beer diet. That works, right?
I need to learn to set the alarm before I leave, not when I get home, too, by the way. Cause, um, yeah, I fucked that portion of the competition up. The internal clock saved me, but booyakasha, I was scurred.
Oh, by the way, were you aware that there's a plethora of nascar poetry on the internet? Since when do trailers have high speed?
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