Hell no, I ain't happy!

Killer weekend this weekend. Veitch came up from Mobile, Andrew and Brandy came down from Gadsden. We had some drinks, watched Alabama barely beat Tennessee, got Andrew and Brandy's car out of the impound, and went to a killer house party. Some girl was actually so excited to be at said party, she parked her car on the train tracks (true story) and came to me for comfort as she panicked at the thought of a freight train destroying her car.

Needless to say, I didn't get any from train tracks girl. Instead, I ended up listening to Thin Lizzy with a couple of other friends. Crunk, but it's not getting me laid.

Which brings me to what may or may not be my main topic of discussion: my lack of getting any. Either that, or my blatant apathy at trying to get any. I was at said party, the police showed up, people left, and some girl offered to do things to me for a Red Stripe tall boy. I have her the tall boy, tried to hold her to her end of the bargain (not forcefully, that's rape and rape is wrong), and she scurried away with one of my tall boys. My abilities at convincing people to do anything are lacking. I couldn't sell soap and water to that dirty kid from the Charlie Brown comics (not that he would buy it. That kid was always fucking nasty.)

And this isn't the first time. Let's not forget the time that I went home with someone 11 years older than me and she started doing coke and passed out before I could even consider possibly contracting herpes. Or what about the time I went home with the girl that decided doing pills would be more fun than doing me. Really, this is starting to be a problem.

Meh, fuck it. If porn could make me breakfast, I'd never go to a bar or party again. (OFFICIALLY THE VERY FIRST PORN JOKE OF THE ASSWIPE CHRONICLES! YAY!)

I was at work Friday night and hit a girl with my car. Not her car, but her. She walked behind me as I was backing up and ran over to my window and asked if I was okay. She weighed all of 100 pounds. Of course I was okay. I asked if she was, she said yes, said it was her fault, and wished me a pleasant evening of sandwich delivery.

Speaking of work, I found out today that people from the corporate office are in town and if we don't greet people when they walk in and tell them goodbye or something along those lines as they leave, we'll get fired. Crunk, huh?

Halloween is Saturday. This year's will be documented. Last year, I made a pretty kick ass Unknown Hinson costume and didn't have a single photo of it. Not one. I even did the sideburns (but not the teeth stuff. I almost puked as I put on.) This year, after much debate and much more apathy, I've decided to go as ARTIE! THE STRONGEST MAN IN THE WORLD! Of course, I'll be bearded Artie. I'm not shaving again until April.