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Drab is not a river in Egypt
posted Friday March 19, 2004 @ 21:48 by bigass

So. I find myself here having a subdued Friday night. Oblivious to the fact that I must have been exhausted, I stumbled home from work this afternoon. Ended up face down in the sheets and woke up a few hours ago. It amazes me that after all the unconsciousness it still feels like 2 midgets in the backseat rattling around in my head. In all fairness I guess the Advil bottle didn't say anything about curing midgets. Tomorrow night I am guaranteed by The Ferg, is going to be fun. Some sort of 'go out, party and act our age' thing.

I even shaved this morning so I can get a clip and cut tomorrow in preparation. Yes, I know I?m pulling all the stops out. I might even shower. The voice in the back of my head is saying, 'but why oh why even bother, you know you don't like the bar thing'. I have this feeling that there really is no atmosphere that fosters personal connection in a bar. It's just like any other social function where the people arrive with a group of sober people and leave with the same group of drunken people, and all the intermediary between arrival and departure is just for show. There is no suspense, only predictability because that's the type of person I am. The Royal Drabness.



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