Awaking to the sound of rain hitting the roof is one of the most calming starts to day I can think of. If only I had a maid to clean up the empty bottles, a butler to bring me a dark roast coffee and croissant, and a hot tub I would be set.
Laziness has struck today, and I can finally putter around the house sans the guilt of not running errands. I decided to give away my shift tonight, in favour of meeting up with the Kid, encore une fois.
I have already called my hometown to send birthday greetings to a great friend, and decided that I did indeed have my cut my hair a little too short yesterday.
After several beer after work, Sara-Jane and I decided to crash Karaoke at the gay bar-we should have known better.
I ended up meeting a pretty cool guy, but just when I thought "I will keep him in my harem," I noticed the teeth-grinding, forehead sweat and eyes on high alert. Either I was sitting across from Whitney Houston or this guy was a not-so-rookie rail runner,
Sadly, Clive Davis was nowhere to be seen, so this guy was indeed in hailing his thrills through twenty-dollar bills.
I had made up my mind that this was going nowhere, naturally I realize where he was obtaining said thrill.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a slightly familiar face, the ex of Signore.
Drug dealers I can tolerate, they have and continue to provide me with delicious smokeables, and the random night of mushroom teaing. They aren't trying to be your friend, they are simply providing you with what you want, one stop show, wham bam thank you dealer.
Drug Pushers, on the other hand, are complete trash.
From the way they dress, their random trips to the washroom and ABM, and their compulsive need to be in the centre of the room they are easy to spot. This time was no different. The dirt-bag is filtering around the small crowd and enticing everyone to "elevate their consciousness." Later I learned that this douche is not just an abusive psycho, but he takes the cake as best in shit-show by getting all the boys hooked on drugs and back to his place into his supposedly very comfortable bed.
After downing a few more barley pops, and a lemon drop shot, I grabbed the Kiwi SJ and we were off, once again I was leaving a situation I was both uncomfortable and all-knowing of, with a beautiful girl on my side.
This morning the beautiful roommates were rushing around heading out for the day, as I brewed a cup of coffee, swung open the patio door listened to the falling rain and decided to hold the fort and marinate today.
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