All the Single Ladies

Song of the moment: Rain E-Type

Hello, world of the interwebs. It’s been a little while. I hope you’ve been well. My life has been quite good. Care to hear more?

Well, if you don’t, stop reading. You prick.

I pulled an all-nighter on Friday because I wasn’t tired. Had a raging headache, but whatever. After Sean got off work, we tailgated. This was my very first tailgate in the 3+ years I’ve attended school here. I don’t feel I was missing much.

Except for drunk Ryan, who was damn hilarious. We need to get that kid liquored up before every Improv practice.

Anyway, after that it was game time. It was actually a fun game to watch, with MSU keeping a consistent lead over UM without it getting boring (i.e. our first game). Then, end of the 4th quarter, UM makes a comeback. Ties the game. We go into overtime. I was thrilled. What fun football.

Overtime in college games is odd to me, though I think I like it better than pro overtime. Gives each team an equal chance. Then again, pro is sudden death, which is always exciting. I dunno. Guess it doesn’t really matter what I think about overtime.

The refs were terrible and obviously UM biased, but we still won, so I’ll ignore it. Greg Jones!

Went home after the game and passed out for a few hours. Managed to get up again around 11:30 at night, whereupon I hung out with people, got very drunk, and went home at 7:30 in the morning to sleep again.

Which brings us to tonight. After 13 outfit changes (yes, I counted), I finally got dressed for the Mustard Plug show. I’m not sure who I was trying to impress… I guess I just wanted to look sexy or something. I confuse myself frequently.

The show was great. Loved ’em all (with the exception of Catalina Wine… something, which were only so-so). By the time Mustard Plug played (oh bearded bass player, how I wanted to ravish you right on that stage), I was already crazy sore from dancing in those heels. But fuck it, when dance music is played, you dance. Period. Apparently, men were doing a lot of staring at me as I shook my ass in my short skirt and bounced around… skirt + larger breasts + bouncing/skanking = woman who illicits many interested glances from men around the bar. Too bad I wasn’t there to pick up a man.

Still, it’s nice to be told you have great legs. I prefer a man to compliment my legs rather than comment upon my breasts, seeing as I hate the damn things.

Now I’m revved up and full of energy. I can’t sleep. It’s 5:30 in the morning. This isn’t good.

Oh, and I found out that the person I’ve been angrily cursing out and then writing off in my mind the last week and a half has been so laconic because his grandfather died… God, I’m such a fucking douchebag. But, to continue down the asshole track, might I say that at least my initial instincts were correct- I thought something had happened to him, and I was right.

Oh yes, I’m a twat. I’m gonna go do something else now, to help me forget my inner cuntwaffle tendencies.

Bonus link of the day: If I ever have children, this is how they will be raised. For the Horde.

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