Okay, before we start, I’ll tell ya right off the bat that I’m drunk. So if you see any spelling mistakes (cause heavens know I make more than enough grammar mistakes as it is), just label them as battlefield losses.
So I went out tonight. In the name of SCIENCE!. And yes, SCIENCE! is a word all by itself. It’s science’s grown up, awesome brother. So, SCIENCE! is a word. Complete with the exclamation point. Trust me, okay? It is.
Anyways (and I cannot believe I had enough foresight to put that there), this town sucks. What the hell kind of a town has a five-to-one ratio of men to women in its bars on a Friday night? I went to three different bars and I swear to all that was, is and ever will be holy, I saw five penis-bearers to every pair of tits. And that statistic includes the bartenders. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s just all kinds of fucked up.
So yeah. This healthy and handsome 20-something guy went out tonight and got a wee bit drunk. Can’t say that I blame myself. Seriously, I’ve been here for over four years. I think I deserve one night out, during which I get drunk and stumble my way back to the dorm. Too bad the night was such a burning pile of fail.
Okay, since you asked and begged (and I know you didn’t), I’ll tell you how my night went.
I left the dorm, intent on playing some pool, drinking some beer and charming some chicks. Of all that, I only got to drink the beer (which, surprisingly, is also a shining example of how life can completely fuck someone’s plans right up the tailpipe). I had no one to play pool with. The guys who’d taken the only pool table in the town were rather vehement about no one else playing at their table. Fuck those fuckers sideways with a burning torch.
Anyway, I took off pretty soon after discovering that I won’t be playing pool tonight. Got myself to another bar, only to find it also overrun by males. Well, fuck that. So I trekked quite a way to what is possibly my favorite bar in this pussy-forsaken town. That one was as overrun by penises as the other two. I watched some football and had a third beer and cheeseballs. The guy next to me bought me a fourth beer, so I guess he’s kinda cool.
At about 11.30pm, I figured I’d better get my ass back to the dorm. Now I’m here, writing this post and feeling utterly defeated and miserable.
This was supposed to be my night of awesomeness. The night I looked hot, went out, scored some chicks and proved myself as the highest echelon of manliness. Instead, I looked sorta acceptable, drank four beers on my own, completely failed to even hit on any chicks and, to top it all off, ended up all alone in my room, pondering over having one more beer to finish off this night of epic fail.
I hope that whoever reads this can understand my feeling of failure. Right now, I certainly feel it’s justified.
Now, I’m gonna turn in and hope that when morning comes, I won’t remember most of this crap. Cause if I did, I’d feel sad indeed.
Dr. Funk, signing off.
