- Jul 1, 2004
- 21,029
- 2
- 61
OK,
Let's get some things straight.
Yup, this is about some chick.
And, yup, I have had her before. So STFU.
But that was maybe 4 weeks ago. And she's really not that hot. If you saw her, you'd say she's "OMGWTFSHEISNOHAWTEEATALLOMGWTFWTFWTF." The first time was with her and her redhead friend, believe it or not. 22 years old. Thin, cute, the legs, oh my the legs. But the lttle redhead is back at home, a long ways away. Sigh.
But you'd do it. She's cute, very cute. She has that look. And she's cool.
Maybe.
Maybe, not.
Maybe she's just some little beeaatch.
Friday. Horrible day at work. Our busiest day, and this was no exception. With a crappy Monday ahead, I was still lucky to leave at 5:30.
So, home it was planned. And home is was set to be. But it was friday, and I wasn't in a Friday mood, sad to say. That sucked. I knews tonight was not going to be good. I wasn't listiening to the Stones, or even the Red Hot Chili Peppers (damn them for having such a long ass name.... BASTARDS!!!). Nope, I still had my oldies/motown mp3 cd in.
Carole King.
Barry White.
I dunno, some Al Green sure comes to mind.
BUT IT WASN'T THE STONES!!
IT WASN'T ANY ZZ TOP!!
NO "OMGIGOTTALONGASSNAME RED HOT MOTHER FVCKING CHILI PEPPERS"
As I drove by the river, the mighty mississippi., I'm thinking to myself. I know it. Hell, I knew it. I should have stayed home tonight. I had some weed, I had some Jack. I got a motherfreakin gaming system from hell, it's been a long day at work, it's been a long WEEK at work. And....WORK... is going to be some buuullshsheeeeyt on Monday. Fvckin' dumbass clients. Beeeeastards.
I needed a drink. And I didn't want to be alone.
Problem Chickie calls at 5:00. I'm at work. She has already called once before. She is definitely up for some fun tonight.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "Dude, this is a PROBLEM??"
Yeah, it is when this other dude can afford to go. And I didn't think his "I'm a broke-ass mofo" ass could afford to go. To the casino that is. Helll I didn't even want to go. Not to a casino. To a bar? Yes. Oh, yesss. I needed a drink like the president in a nationally televised debate.
So off to the casino we went. Me. Chickie. .... And dude.
I say, "dude," but he's pretty cool. I know him, fairly well. He's "aaaaeeettttt" if you know what I mean. But he's cool.
But tonight. I didn't want dude. I wanted chickie. I didn't want to play any blackjack, no craps, and those slot machines looked like clowns wanting a handout.
Don't get me wrong. It's fvckin cold out there. If I got a couple of bucks, and dude needs some booze, or luckily, a warm place to sleep, it's his money. No problem. But these slot machines. Pathetic. With Bush's economy and an OS as manipulative as a Bill gates dream, I aint playing no damn slot machines.
No, tonight, I didn't even want to play Hold 'Em.
I wanted to drink. And I wanted chickie to spend the night (ok, if you haven't figured this out by now...)
Here's the situation. This is important. Write this down. I'm driving. I met them at dude's. For the slow ones, this means her car is at dude's place. Dude's car is at his place.
So I am thinking about this, driving home. Along that mighty mississippi. Alone. Why? Because they were going to grab their cars and head on over to my place, ... you see I got the weed.
Were they behind me? No. But she had to grab something out of his apartment, so they'd be behind me, quite a bit.
But as that way along the mississippi, I was thinking. I'm smart. They aren't coming...., over, that is. So I got home smoked that bowl by myself and wrote this crap.
Women suck.
But only if you're lucky.
And, tonight, I wasn't very lucky.
I guess Dude was though.
:beer: :beer: for dude.
No beer for me. I've had enough, OBVIOUSLY.
Let's get some things straight.
Yup, this is about some chick.
And, yup, I have had her before. So STFU.
But that was maybe 4 weeks ago. And she's really not that hot. If you saw her, you'd say she's "OMGWTFSHEISNOHAWTEEATALLOMGWTFWTFWTF." The first time was with her and her redhead friend, believe it or not. 22 years old. Thin, cute, the legs, oh my the legs. But the lttle redhead is back at home, a long ways away. Sigh.
But you'd do it. She's cute, very cute. She has that look. And she's cool.
Maybe.
Maybe, not.
Maybe she's just some little beeaatch.
Friday. Horrible day at work. Our busiest day, and this was no exception. With a crappy Monday ahead, I was still lucky to leave at 5:30.
So, home it was planned. And home is was set to be. But it was friday, and I wasn't in a Friday mood, sad to say. That sucked. I knews tonight was not going to be good. I wasn't listiening to the Stones, or even the Red Hot Chili Peppers (damn them for having such a long ass name.... BASTARDS!!!). Nope, I still had my oldies/motown mp3 cd in.
Carole King.
Barry White.
I dunno, some Al Green sure comes to mind.
BUT IT WASN'T THE STONES!!
IT WASN'T ANY ZZ TOP!!
NO "OMGIGOTTALONGASSNAME RED HOT MOTHER FVCKING CHILI PEPPERS"
As I drove by the river, the mighty mississippi., I'm thinking to myself. I know it. Hell, I knew it. I should have stayed home tonight. I had some weed, I had some Jack. I got a motherfreakin gaming system from hell, it's been a long day at work, it's been a long WEEK at work. And....WORK... is going to be some buuullshsheeeeyt on Monday. Fvckin' dumbass clients. Beeeeastards.
I needed a drink. And I didn't want to be alone.
Problem Chickie calls at 5:00. I'm at work. She has already called once before. She is definitely up for some fun tonight.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "Dude, this is a PROBLEM??"
Yeah, it is when this other dude can afford to go. And I didn't think his "I'm a broke-ass mofo" ass could afford to go. To the casino that is. Helll I didn't even want to go. Not to a casino. To a bar? Yes. Oh, yesss. I needed a drink like the president in a nationally televised debate.
So off to the casino we went. Me. Chickie. .... And dude.
I say, "dude," but he's pretty cool. I know him, fairly well. He's "aaaaeeettttt" if you know what I mean. But he's cool.
But tonight. I didn't want dude. I wanted chickie. I didn't want to play any blackjack, no craps, and those slot machines looked like clowns wanting a handout.
Don't get me wrong. It's fvckin cold out there. If I got a couple of bucks, and dude needs some booze, or luckily, a warm place to sleep, it's his money. No problem. But these slot machines. Pathetic. With Bush's economy and an OS as manipulative as a Bill gates dream, I aint playing no damn slot machines.
No, tonight, I didn't even want to play Hold 'Em.
I wanted to drink. And I wanted chickie to spend the night (ok, if you haven't figured this out by now...)
Here's the situation. This is important. Write this down. I'm driving. I met them at dude's. For the slow ones, this means her car is at dude's place. Dude's car is at his place.
So I am thinking about this, driving home. Along that mighty mississippi. Alone. Why? Because they were going to grab their cars and head on over to my place, ... you see I got the weed.
Were they behind me? No. But she had to grab something out of his apartment, so they'd be behind me, quite a bit.
But as that way along the mississippi, I was thinking. I'm smart. They aren't coming...., over, that is. So I got home smoked that bowl by myself and wrote this crap.
Women suck.
But only if you're lucky.
And, tonight, I wasn't very lucky.
I guess Dude was though.
:beer: :beer: for dude.
No beer for me. I've had enough, OBVIOUSLY.
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