And not only that but I missed a spot about the size of a quarter on my neck shaving this morning. It’s disgusting. I saw this program on TV this weekend where they got some guy and tried to teach him how to date. I can’t remember the name of the show, but the lady that was trying to teach him got to telling him about people who are motivated, and what their body language is like. How motivated people, people who like to accomplish things, have good posture, act interested, often leaned forward and get wide eyed. I want motivation. Man my endorphins are low today. I need to do something that’s gonna make me feel good about myself for a change. What is that gonna be? Don’t tell me to do something nice for myself, like go to the spa, or buy something, or go out to dinner. I don’t deserve it. Oh shit, what am I writing here. Lets talk about ways to make yourself feel good about yourself. Where should my worth be coming from. I’m gonna eat lunch at my desk, that’ll provide me with a good sense of false productivity. Maybe if I make money on the stock market I’ll feel like I’m intelligent again. It’s funny how when I feel proud or accomplished it feels like bragging when I write it down, but when I’m in the dumps it feels like the whole world should feel sorry for me.
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This weekend was no boon to my recent glut. That was a fun sentence to write but it’s meaning is shitty. But the past couple of days have been fun in ways. On Friday I went over to the Rod’s to play poken with the boys. We started out with a texas hold’em tournament with a $15 buy-in because everyone has been watching too much celebrity poker. I drank way too much but woke up in the morning with $60 in my pocket. I spent nearly all of Saturday sleeping in Rod’s basement. It was nice, and cool, and dark, down there. I spent the rest of the day on my couch.

I did nothing on Sunday. Cleaned up the apartment a little I guess. I joined some friends at the bank for the last half of the super bowl. Afterwards a couple of us went to the hippy bar. One of the guys I went with was doing shots of grease with a cocktail weenie in it. He did four of them, he should have thrown up. Half the bar was really excited and pounding the bar with ashtrays and chanting “weenie bobber, weenie bobber, weenie bobber” while the other half of the bar stared at him with disgust for being an attention-starved freak. One chick called him a “fucking pathetic ass”. I couldn’t tell why she was so upset that he was doing this to himself. Or maybe she needed the attention worse. I chanted for him because he was an attention-starved freak. It’s good to give attention to people who need it. For some dumb reason we ended up closing the bar, which is just plain ridiculous to do on a Sunday. I was glassy eyed this morning and I feel terrible about myself.