Dear Diary….

Guess what.

A) I will never understand women.

B) I am bored.

C) I’m probably going to keep you in suspense about what happened next in the story that I’ve been telling you until Monday because I haven’t even started on today’s installment.

D) All of the above.

The correct answer is D) All of the above.

I am literally afraid to call my Girl right now she was so pissed off earlier today. I shouldn’t be afraid to call her because lately her mood has been swinging in a bad way, and she’s probably manic girl right now, but I currently feel like avoiding her right now. Which is sad.

And she wasn’t even pissed at me, as far as I could tell. It’s one of those “if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you…” things.

dum de dum. I need to get a life.

We are probably going to have a LAN party this weekend. I was going to spend the weekend with my Girl, partying, and watching her practice with her new band she’s in. But now she’s so pissed off she’s probably going to write a bad song about me or something.

Love on the rocks

Ain’t no surprise

Pour me a drink

And I’ll tell you some lies

Got nothin’ to lose

So you just sing the blues all the time

Neil Diamond rules. I will never ever ever cede that point.

Song sung blue

Everybody knows one

Song sung blue

Every garden grows one

Heh… Now I know what to do to make sure my Girl never reads this diary. Just stick a Neil Diamond quote at the top of every page. She hates Neil Diamond. I mean, who else but his lyrical genius could come up with words such as:

Soo, soolaimon

Soolai, soolai, soolaimon

Soo, soolaimon

Soolai, soolai, soolaimon

Soo, soolaimon

Soolai, soolai, soolaimon

So last night when we hung out at Ricks house, I had a bunch of wine. Because that is what Jesus would do. At least according to Rick.

Rick’s a smart guy, but a goober, somehow. He’s an ex-cultish Christian guy turned into a pagan preist. He’s very intelligent, very well versed on world religions. He’s been wanting to debate religion with me for a while, which is fine, I guess. But he said that goobery thing last night when he asked if I wanted some wine, and when I said yes, he goes, “You’re one of those real Christians, not one of those fake Christians, doing what Jesus would do.”

On the one hand, I’m glad he thinks I’m a real Christian. But on the other hand, drinking wine with some friends doesn’t really make me a real Christian. But then I’m overanalyzing.

How thoughtful. Kim gave me a Ding-Dong. A hostess Ding-Dong, mind you, keep your mind out of the gutter.

You want to hear something that I do on a regular basis, but is really really dumb?

I collect MP3’s at work. But I don’t have a soundcard.

heh.

Just thought I’d tell someone that.

But I’ve got good at finding music. If you want something, I have it. I’ve got all KINDS of punk music. I even found some Bowling for Soup music. I rule. I’m going to make a BFS cd for my Girl of the cd that’s no longer in print and she’s going to be so proud of me. BFS is her fave band.

I leave you with your friend and mind, Neil Diamond.

SONG SUNG BLUE

Written by Neil Diamond

Song sung blue

Everybody knows one

Song sung blue

Every garden grows one

Me and you are subject to the blues now and then

But when you take the blues and make a song

You sing them out again

Sing them out again

Song sung blue

Weeping like a willow

Song sung blue

Sleeping on my pillow

Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice

And before you know, start to feeling good

You simply got no choice

Song sung blue

Everybody knows one

Song sung blue

Every garden grows one

1972 Prophet Music, Inc. (ASCAP)

/rizzn

Quote of the Entry: “I think I might be unwittingly drinking out of my demographic. It’s ginger ale.”

– youradhere