soapboxdiner

I'm drunk and feeling gooooddddd.

Oh, I'm so pissed.

I just wrote a whole long (and happily intoxicated) entry about wanting to going out partying, the three empty beer bottles leering at me from my desktop, and my desire to shirk all propriety for a Monday evening in deference to showing gay boys my boobies and singing Run Around Sue very badly in karaoke.

DAMMIT! You would have really liked it, too.

Anyway - highlights.

I want to drink to excess and laugh til my tummy hurts.

I want to dance on bar tops (I do this extraordinarily well for a chubby chick. You'd be impressed. REALLY.)

Excess is one of the Seven Joys of Life that one should not postpone.

I feel guilty going to the once-a-month bookclub gatherins cuz it throws off the kid's sleep schedule and I have to pay a sitter with money I don't have. DON'T LET ME QUIT!

I'm feeling mighty fine, drinking this atrocious Budwieser. But it hurts soooo good!

I haven't had a date in going on two years, and if I don't have sex soon, I fear I will implode.

I've threatening RDG with a date on New Years. I meant it wholeheartedly. Do you think she'd mind some mindless drunken debauchary? Do you think she'd hold my antics against me in the morning?

The Insurance Co. aka the almost employers gave me a $50 gift card for Safeway, and I don't know what to do with myself and all this free money. Suggestions welcome.

Okay. Thems the highlights, darlings. Sorry for the abbreviated version. Damned fingers closing out the window by way of shortcut keys. I hate it has much as you do. I know you live for these drunken entries wherein I show my wacky side. That's what keeps you hooked right? Oh yeeaaaahhhh. I know.

5:59 pm - 12.16.02
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