Drunk. Drunk. Drunk. Drunk. Drunk. Drunk.

Did I mention that I'm drunk?

Anyway, after an enjoyable evening out with Stuff, Hugh and some of Stuff's friends (including a woman who is German and grew up in Bavaria close to where I'm from), I am plastered. I was supposed to hang out with Mike today, but he got a late start after partying last night, so by the time he called me, I'd assumed he'd bailed so I made plans with Stuff, who is off to China for two months on Tuesday. Which sucks. Because I'll have no one to go to the bars with.

Probably just as well.

We went to Down the Hatch (I went just to make MAK's day since it played a part in a Sex and the City episode, or would have had it not been voice-overed out, which he mentioned in his blog [was that a major run-on sentence?]). Then off to the Hangar Bar, 'cause my friend Rick works there (i.e. cheap drinks). Not only is Rick a sweetheart, but he's one hot motherfucker. Cool tattoos, and I'm all about the cool tattoos.

Then we went to the Phoenix, Nowhere and finally Urge. So I'm tired and drunk and poor.

And I'm having a bloody hard time keeping my spelling even close to correct.

I put some veal in the crockpot and I'm going to bed.

Laterz.