Marc

It Finally Gets Boring, and I'm finally starting to wake up late again. Noon. That's late, isn't it? Hard to tell in my place, to be honest. Two roommates are still sleeping, though two houseguests and one roommate have already disappeared for the day. I need a compass point for my life people. What's late? Early's not hard to figure out. If you're up before anyone else it's early.

I don't understand parties. I think I may give up on trying to reason out what makes a party "good" or "bad". Last night was ridiculous. We headed four blocks up the streets to a party where everyone that lived there appeared to be at least three years younger than myself (five years Roommate Luke's junior). I didn't end up talking to anyone that much, which may be rude or not. Once again, I don't know. Here's how I looked at it:
(1) They didn't care that we brought our own beer. good
(2) They didn't play music at all times. bad
(3) When they did play music it wasn't rap or crappy pop or techno, or whatev. good
(4) When they did pay music it was crappy punk like Anti-Flag or the likes. bad
(5) They had a horseshoe pit. good
(6) They let us play horseshoes the entire time we were there. good
(7) They (the people) looked so teeny and young... bad
(8) ...but they might not have been quite so young. uh..
(9) I got really drunk. good
(10) I got really drunk. bad

And now my head hurts, and it's past noon on a Saturday and I have nothing to do, but I'm afeared that I have totally screwed up my bowel movements and thinking processes for the rest of the day. Maybe I won't be drinking tonight. Most likely not.