Oop, never mind, I don't now how to express myself clearly enough to put out my opinions for debate.
I was going to type about the current gay bishop proceedings in the Episcopalian church. However, after getting through about halfway through conveying my viewpoint, I realized that I simply was not getting my point across.
I suppose that is one of the main drawbacks of this journal, if you want to say something important, you have to be able to write.
And I can't.
And if I simply turned the issue into a simple one line throwback answer like, "fucking hell, gay bashers should be killed," I am far oversimplifying the issue.
Sigh.
So, onto the vapid, shallow, proceedings of my life.
I realized today that it was not the 6th, as I had thought, but rather it was the 8th. Meaning that I had missed Dawn's birthday party. Damn. I feel bad about that, I had said repeatedly that I would be there, then I just don't show up without any sort of explanation. Well, such is the curse of I.
No memory.
No memory.
No memory.
Sort of like Roger Smith. Only I don't have a big robot.
You have your crack, some have their booze (heh) , I have my adult swim.
Well, on Thursday, Megan, JL, Jimmy, Sam, and I went Put-Put Golfing. I almost could feel the girls pain as they floundered in boredom. We went to Blockbuster's. Wendy's. Megan's house. Played pool. Sam got a little mashed up. Very funny stuff.
Sort of stayed at home last night, which is a shame, because I could of been partying.
Such is the curse of I.
I think I will be spending the night at Jimmy's this fine day.
By the way, I have a cell phone. But I never use it. I have no money on it, the number is different than it was before, I don't know what it is.
In short.
Don't call me.
In a driving update.
I ran my first red light on a major intersection.
I have lost my wallet, which contains my license, and a bunch of other unimportant tidbits.
But I am now properly applying power through the turn, and the clutch is slipping rather well.
All is good.
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