I guess I could be imagining things that aren't really there, but I don't think so.

I speak to you, when I'm able, and I hear the strain in your voice. I look at you, when I dare, and I see it in your eyes.

I see the same thing in myself. That constant struggle to censor yourself, to say and do the right thing, it wears at you, drags you down.

And you feel like you can't discuss it with anyone because it makes you seem weak. Because then you would be exposed as the human being that you are. Flawed, just like everyone else.

I'd like to say that, in the end, this war you wage within yourself will be won. That it will be, in the end, worth the stress that you feel right now.

I'd like to say that but it would be a lie. I don't know how it's going to turn out for you. When searching for ourselves we don't always find what we expected. When battling our inner demons the good guys don't always win.

I don't like the way things seem to be turning, but all I can do is wish you well. I can't really help you with this. I could never be objective enough to give you untainted advice.

So I'll just wait, and I'll cross my fingers, and I'll see what happens.

For some reason I woke up right at the crack of ridiculous this morning. It wasn't because of my fancy alarm clock though. Probably one of my cats doing something loud.

Anyway, I'm up. So I guess I'll write about last night.

On the way to Rich O's I stopped at the haunted Burger King for a quick bite. They have these new flavor packet thingies that you're supposed to shake onto your fries. Maybe I'll try those one of these days. I like spicy things.

Rich O's was fairly crowded, but SassyGirl and TacoBell had arrived early and they'd managed to secure the island. I sat with them and ordered a Cone Smoker (1846).

SassyGirl and I talked about DaveFest and t-shirts and just generally got caught up because we hadn't seen each other in a million years or so.

CoffeeDude joined us for a bit. He also expressed an interest in a DaveFest shirt.

Everybody seemed to be in a shitty mood. Except me. I was fine.

So we were sitting there talking about nothing much and LuckyFucker came in an sat in the living room area. I gave him a quick wave and wondered where HatGirl was.

About a thousand years later, HatGirl came in.

Yay!

She also sat in the living room area.

Boo!

So I gave her a wave as well and tried to remember if I done anything to piss those two off.

My second beer was a Smithwick's (766).

After what seemed like another thousand years, HatGirl came up and talked to us.

Yay!

Then SassyGirl and TacoBell left and I had a few blessed moments alone with HatGirl. We talked about DaveFest. Then LuckyFucker came over and joined us.

Everybody seemed to be in a shitty mood, like I already said.

My mood was fine, though it was getting worse because of all the grumps.

So HatGirl and LuckyFucker left after just a few minutes with me. I checked my deodorant. It was working fine.

I was alone at the island for a minute or so, until WomanRepellant moved over to join me. He, at least, seemed to be in a good mood.

My third beer was a Gulden Draak (160).

I suppose that's about it, except that this one chick came in that looked like a porn librarian. I drooled at her from afar for a while. WomanRepellant moved over to the throne to get a better look, and I came home.

I just remembered.

I'm supposed to be freaking out.

I guess I should get started.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Went and got my haircut today, and HaircutLady told me about how she'd taken six puppies into the vet this morning to get wormed and to have their first vaccinations.

She loaded them back into the carrier and brought them home.

By the time she got home all six puppies were dead.

This is hopefully the saddest thing I hear about today.

She had her son stick one of the puppies in her freezer so the cause of death can be determined. I suggested that she might want to consider a different vet to perform the autopsy.

Poor puppies!

I see that, as of this writing, I'm number 6 (out of 2,220,000) in the google results for the search term drunken rambling.

On the left, my lovely self, trying to make SassyGirl regret taking my picture.

On the right, the DaveFest t-shirt design.

Uncanny, isn't it?

I could have done without the jowls, but I've got my likeness on a t-shirt, and that's more than I ever thought would happen to little old me.

If you don't know what all this is about, you can go here and read Roger's explanation.

I'm going to be all famous and shit.

T-shirts will be available over the Internet to any of my readers that have nothing else to wear. When I find out pricing I'll post it. I'll pay for shipping on Internet orders.

If you have GIF animations disabled, then this won't make much sense.

I had too much invested.

I could afford to lose one, and I could afford to lose the other.

Both to lose both was just too much.

Fuck, I miss her.

Roll your eyes all you want.

It won't change a thing.

They keep saying on the radio how they're hopeful that Barbaro can have a career as a stallion.

Having held that job for a while, I can say that it's not all it's advertised to be. And I can't imagine that mares are much less demanding than human women.

Also, wouldn't the offspring of a horse that shatters its leg in three places, simply because it was running, be worth about the same as, I dunno, something else that's obviously useless?

I'm just saying.

There are maybe three people on Earth that can hurt my feelings.

I'm one, and neither of the others are you.

So you can keep playing your little game if you want, but only if you really enjoy making an ass out of yourself.