I guess I'm in love with my I-Phone. There I've said it...publically and everything.
With all the applications you can download, I'm surprised it's not listed as one of the worlds greatest something or other. Let's face it, it beats the shit out of the Grand Canyon. (Sorry Des)
Though now that I think about it, the I-Phone should come with an ugly people spotting application for those of us that take a drink from time to time.
It would've came in handy for me last night. I'm not saying the little twink that shared my bed was a two but he was definitely a two. *shudders*
I was accused of not making sense the other day at work...to which I replied, "When I'm this dead sexy, I don't have to make fucking sense."
There is a server at the restaurant I now call home, let's call him "D", who isn't really that good of a server. But the guests love him and he has a good heart so I keep him around. But after screwing up for the thousandth time the other night, I look over at the bartender and say, "Good thing "D" is attractive, because his smarts isn't going to take him anywhere."
Why isn't Florida called, 'God's Waiting Room'?
Since I got clean and sober, I'm finding it harder and harder to remain slim, I know, the drugs were killing me and my behavior was erratic at best. But at least I was thin. So what if I was bald, at least I was thin. Now, I'm still bald and at what my friends call a healthy weight...which is code for fat ass. And to make matters worse, the hair that I'm losing on top of my head is now showing up in the craziest places.
Why would your ears ever need hair? For that matter, why would your back, blissfully free of hair for thirty-three years suddenly sprout what I can only describe as fur.
And before you all freak out, I do a bit of manscaping to keep the Sasquatch on my back under control. But it's all a bother really.
And yet instead of going to the gym, I'm sitting here typing this drivel while drinking a beer after I just ate half a pizza. Maybe I deserve this fat ass staring back at me from the mirror.
I guess I really don't want to be perfect anymore. Damn-it all, I am quite happy. Maybe that's all I really need.