Everything was FINE.

I showed Dawne some stuff I'd written. Chris called and said that he wanted to go out to the bars. Dawne had to study so didn't go out and dropped me off at his house. Had a coupla beers at his and Tony's place, shot the shit, Courtney joined us. She just got back from seeing a show about 'Mr. Show' at UCLA. with Mark. He didn't go with us cuz' he was supposed to take his C-Best test the next morning. "Hi. My name is Mr. Vermillion and I'll be your substitute teacher for today." Mark just graduated and now to make money while living at his parent's house, works for LAWRYS. Yeah, the spice people. Except, get this-he doesn't STOCK spices, he just sets up displays and bugs the busy supermarket managers to reorder. What? No spice hook-ups? What the hell is the point then? He can't get me anything. No California blend, salad herbs, not even a measly can of garlic salt. Help me out a little. Damn.

So. Like I said.

Everything was FINE.

We met up with Tony and his girlfriend Melissa at the Continental. They were hanging out with some guy that I think I've met before who Tony's toured with. Tony and some of my other friends are in a band called Longfellow. His tattoed friend is in Bullets and Octane. It's a rockabilly/punk band, I guess. The bouncer guy told us that we would have to wait, "too many people, blah blah, I look bored sitting on this stool in Fullerton, California." The last place that needs a bouncer who thinks he's really working in L.A. Some guy though, told the bouncer that we were "cool' and that some people just left and to let us in. So the bouncer did. I said thanks to the Fullerton bouncer guy. He didn't answer back, of course. Fucker. Not to excuse his typical rudeness and lack of cordiality but I can understand his lack of social enthusiasm. Because if I was in his position that would piss me off. You just told a group that they can't get in to your work for whatever reason and then some friggin' snot-nose tells you different and then you look like an ass. Hee-haw. Lick It. There were alot of people inside. Really crowded. Annoying? Maybe. Girls who look like they're sixteen and have huge breasts wrapped in tiny, stretchy tops? Yes. Guys who wear T-shirts and baseball caps? Yes. Say BRO alot? Oh yeah. Drank a couple of beers. Socialized. Whatever. Court, while waiting to pay her tab, stuffed bar napkins down her bra. Waste of paper but amusing. Some guys at the end of the bar noticed. Court started to mop her brow and act embarassed. Went to Back Alley Bar. Boring. Met a girl named Mary that Courtney met through a friend. Crazy. This girl cracked me and chris up. I guess she just moved from...shoot...where was it? Wisconsin? NO...DETROIT. I know nothing about it. Cars come from there, Clarence and Alabama Wohrley do too. Eminem and D-12, right. Yo Yo Yo. I'm sorry Momma. BTW. Random. Method man and Redman are the SHITE but after them appearing in that MTV show that only lasted for a little bit and the underarm deodarant commercial. Wow. Loss of points in my cool book for the both of them. So this Mary gal was funny. Stupid funny. Makes fun of stuff that she just said a couple of seconds ago. Thats good. Laughs alot. Chris and I got a kick out of her. We all went to Mulberry Street Restaurant. Karoake again. I only had a couple of minutes to pick a song because they were winding down, so I sang 'Thats Amore' by Dean Martin. I've done that before but I had to find something quick. Climbed up on one of the tables and sang. Eusebio, the main cocktail guy, let us stay after they closed. We walked back to Chris and Tony's. Shot it. Played guitar with Tony on his four-track for a bit. Kept on trying to get Chris to drop me off back home but he said that he needed more time to sober up. I wanted to call a taxi a million times but he just told me to wait. So, as the clock was ticking away, I was getting in more troblksdkasjdjkdssssssssssssss

ssssssssssssssss

IM TIRED

NOBODY IS READING THIS ANYWAY SO IM GONNA CONTINUE TOMORROW

2MORROW IS:

SLEEP.

$2.75 steak breakfast

Library used booksale

Writing stuff with Mr. Spicy Vermillion

Drunk

And then eating Fondue at Rutabagorez'

MO' LATER...

LATER.

After The Girlfriend isn't mad at me anymore.