"My grandfather informs me that this is impossible."

I suppose something should be said aboout Wednesday, because it pretty much defines the life right now and Eric won't do it. A mutual friend came back into town after a long absence and got a new job at Good Guys, which is a - erm... gentlemen's club in Georgetown. 'Ric and I went to go see her, and we lucked out because it was seven dollar beer night. We chilled there for about six hours, met some naked ladies and cool guys, saw our girl and went back to her place for a bit. She now lives with a tribe of junkies, evidenced by their inability to stop talking and their love of the early homeless school of home decor. I lasted about an hour before I had to go - the weirdness - and we both came home with that stunned but accepting look. On to Thursday.


Collective moneys spent on booze and strippers: $230, more or less
Times Eric got hit on: about four that I saw
Times I got asked to get on stage: 5
Funny thing Eric said: "If you were on the dyke market, your stock would soar."
Singles origami we made: a frog, an airplane,
Number of new junkies' names I'm not going to remember: 3
Still need a roommate: Yes.

Today we go to the roller derby. Let's see chicks beat each other up on wheels.

Eric is a smelly, short, hanger stealer. That is all.

The End.