Free

I could masterbate on the streets here in India and not get judged. That's how free this place is. Count it.

I've come to realize that the difference between home and this place is that the people here are more "free" than any group of people I've ever seen. Even more free than the bitches I've seen walk into Mac's and walk out with someone. That's real talk.

The things I've seen here in the past three weeks is the most amazing things I've ever seen in my 30 years on the third rock from the sun. I'm not talking about how cheap things are - I've been living off of the same $200 I came with. I'm not talking about how the company paid for me to get here and live. I'm talking about how Americans can be the most arrogant, self-assured people on the planet.

Tell me that someone in Arlington can walk out the door and pee on the side of the road without judgement from people like me who see it and think they're dirty but no one else would. Tell me that someone in Texas can walk up and down the middle of the street and only get a honk from a moving car, making sure you don't walk in front of it and get hurt. Tell me someone in Dallas you can wear the same shirt, 35 days in a row, buttoned down to the third button, showing all sorts of smelly body hair and no one but ME will judge you on the smell of onions and corn chips when you walk in.

I took video of my way to work the other day finally.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llFghj4jZIM

If you notice at the beginning, there is a dude in white, relieving himself on the side of the road. it is 8 in the morning, folks. Eight. Which either means he is a G and has a penis the size of a ficus tree or he doesn't care who's watching. That nigga is free. And letting it go freely. All out in the open like "the world is my urinal". That's what I'm talking about. I get nervous peeing at freaking Boomer Jacks in a trough! My only saving grace there is melting the ice. And this fool pulled over his rickshaw and let it all hang out and just went, man. If that ain't free, I'm not a mexican with bad credit.

We, as Americans, have lived in the microwave age for so long that we demand results right away. The people here are so un-time aware that I'm the only one in the room wearing a watch. And I bought this hoe from a fool on the side of the road who OBVIOUSLY didn't worry about time. He didn't worry about time so much that the second hand on my watch is slower than Tom Cruise realizing that he is a homosexual.

Rode down the street the other day and came upon a young man and his sister sitting on the side of the road. Something was odd about what they were doing so I just kept watching. As we came upon them in the wild driven hotel cap, I noticed that the little man was playing with his "little man" on the side of the road as the little girl watched.

Now. You can't tell me that if some little nigga was on the side of the road in Ft Worth, tugging at his Vienna sausage wouldn't get arrested for that mess. If I can't live in a world where some dude can't discover that touching his one-eyed pleasure snake makes him giggle, then I just don't want to live. Hell, his pecker with bigger than mine! Who knew.

Anywayz... with a "z".

I'm now at the hotel, drinking the $100 bottle of Jack with 7 Up. I would say "don't judge me", but I know better. Shit is free at the hotel!

Until next time...

India or bust

So this time last summer, I was sitting in a BADASS apartment in Denver, Co, wishing I was back home with every part of my being. I hated leaving home, even though I was only a 2 hour flight away. I wasn't that Denver was a bad city - it really was kind of fun. It was just that I wasn't at home hanging out with my friends.
Oh, how the times have changed. Today I'm sitting in an empty apartment in Powai, India - 8,829 miles away from home... and I'm ok. No, I'm not sleeping much. And to be honest, I'm even impressed with MYSELF on that one. It's not that I'm not trying - I really am lying in bed in the dark trying to sleep. It just ain't happening. But I've still doing work at the office, I'm still hanging out with my new bartender friend and still able to be up and answer emails/texts in the middle of the night slash middle of the day in Texas. Yup. I'm pretty bad ass.

Or stupid. Eh. That's neither here nor there.

Maybe it's because I've finally grown up a little. Maybe it's because I'm being forced to be here or be unemployed. Maybe it's because I like curry. (No. That's NOT it.) But I'm really not having a bad time here. I'm getting to teach some pretty cool people about the system I've been drowning in for the past 2 years. And I'm getting to experience an ENTIRELY different culture while getting paid for it. Can a brotha get an amen?? Well well. You KNOW a mexican ain't one to give up some free shit. I'm talkin' 'bout so cheap, we wouldn't spend a lovely evening.

I will say this: The weather here blows harder than Kim Kardashian at an NBA game. It's hot, humid, and hot, and sticky, and hot. My hair hates it. Just saying. I'm looking more and more like there are spiders having a meeting on my head. Whats worse is that I said I wouldn't get a hair cut until I get back home... in 4 weeks. It's only been 2 and I'm already looking like Wilmer Valderrama. We'll figure it out. I just hope my trainees don't think this is what I look like on a normal basis. Like, I walk in and they think I wake up in the morning and do this shit to my head on purpose. Like I went to the Einstein School of Hair.

Along with the weather being terrible, the traffic here is RIDICULOUS!! We are only about 15 min from the office and it took 2 effing hours to get home yesterday. At one point, we were sitting still for so long, everyone started getting out of their cars and walking. I thought I was in an REM video. I thought a nigga was about to get subtitles.

J Buck got here today. Which means one of two things: I'm either going to FINALLY go out on the town and see what kind of trouble I'm going to get into, or I'm gonna spend too much time with him and turn into a douche. Either way, it should be interesting. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with some of the people of India and seeing what professional level they're on. I'm sure I'm WAY more professional, but that's neither here nor there.

Faith is not knowing what's going to be, but knowing what's going to be will be ok. Write that shit down. Twice. Cause Jack Daniels is kicking in and I won't remember. But that's neither here nor there.

Until next time...

Oops. I'm Fat.

So just completed my first week in India. I smell like hell and my hair looks like shit and I'm not really having a bad time.
Training is going alright. I do realize that I could never be a teacher. Ever. In life. Some of these "grown ass adults" are acting like kids with ADHD at a light factory. I don't know if it's a language thing or a "I'm an idiot" thing. Either way, I hope they get this quick because I may have to break out a whip and treat them like Kunta Kinte. Your name ain't Toby, sir.
So apparently, the yearly monsoon is coming on Friday. And everyone thinks it's going to be beautiful. Now, I'm not sure, but I have never considered a effing hurricane "beautiful". Yea, rain is fun and all, but I'm not gonna get excited about a flood. Just saying. I'll just sit in my room and eat cookies and chips until it's over.
Damnit. I'm fat.

So the food in India sucks ass. I've never like Indian food and these fools just sent me to the one place that I can't eat jack shit. It's spicy and it all tastes the same - like spicy sweat. I've tried to find any kind of western food on the menu here at the hotel, but it STILL tastes like feet. Had peanuts at the bar and they STILL tasted like old onions and corn chips. I would kill to eat a quarter pounder from McDonald's. I'd even settle for a Taco Bell hard taco. And that ain't even beef!
Fat.

Went to Chili's for happy hour yesterday. Their happy hour consists of a buy-one, get-one free... INCLUDING the Presidente margaritas. Holy India - that's the best idea I've ever heard. That's like having a party and charging at the door and people ACTUALLY paying to get in (yes, I remember you fuckers not paying but I'm over it so don't worry about it.... I'm fine.... just dandy.... I'll move on). The only thing they didn't have was food that I wanted to eat. Who would have thought that the Chili's in India wouldn't have good food. Especially since Chili's in America serves great food....
Yup. Still fat.

So as far as sleep goes, I've been missing it. Since I slept on Sunday when I got here, I've had all of 14 hours of sleep - until last night. Fourteen is 2 hours more than 12, in case you didn't know. That's less than the whole "Roots" series. And I say UNTIL last night. Last night, after Chili's, I proceeded to drink like I was Snoop Dogg and alcohol was marijuana. So when I got back to the hotel and found Scott sitting on the couch with 4 huge empty bottles of beer, I started tripping out. TV was on mute and he was on his laptop. Sat at talked to him for a bit, I think, and passed out. Woke up 12 hours later. Hell yes. Ambien what? Just get hammered. Works better and WAY more fun. Pretty sure I am on the right schedule now but it's still early so we'll see.
Fat.

So we went to Mumbai today to see the city. It was pretty cool! Saw the Gateway to India, saw the ocean, saw some dirty people who sold me a watch, and a monkey. Pretty eventful. Went to a bar after shopping and of COURSE, I am going to buy a tshirt. Asked the waiter for one and says, "Extra large?" A little offended, I said, no - a large will do. He replies, "are you sure?". Yes, motherfucker, I'm sure! Just bring me my damn shirt. Geez. Didn't have the black one I wanted so I purchased it's yellow brother. Got home and realized that not only should I have taken the extra large, I should NOT have complained about it on Facebook because now I look like an idiot. I look like the sun's retarded, misshapen star brother from the Butterfinger Galaxy.
Fat ass.

I honestly tried to go work out the other morning before work - since I wasn't sleeping anyway - but the gym didn't open until 6:30am and that wasn't enough time to do that, take a shower, and catch breakfast before work. It's the most important meal of the day. Don't judge me.
I'm fat.

I know I complain a lot about being here but I'm seriously not having a bad time. It's definitely a culture shock but I'm really having fun. The bartender at the hotel bar is pretty cool and we've become friends a little. Imagine that. I'll be home soon enough, though, and have a Champps burger, a Whataburger with no onions or tomatoes, a quarter pounder with cheese from McDonald's, a steak from ANYWHERE, and fries. At the same time. All of it.
Oops. I'm fat.

Until next time....

Too Fly For Mumbai

Just flew into India and boy are my arms tired!

So here I am in my hotel room in Powai, India - a suburb of Mumbai. The room isn't that bad, just a little different. There is a refrigerator and a stove and whatnot so that's good. The only odd thing is there is a sprayer in the bathroom next to the toilet.... that I can only imagine what it's for and how many people have used it before me... and how much I AM NOT going to even try to turn it on. The shower is pretty nice except for the fact that it is a glass door and the mirror is on the other side. I'm not sure if you have ever seen me take a shower, but it ain't pretty. Makes me want to cry on the inside a little.

The flight here was pretty nice. I got to ride Business Class. The seats reclined, got to watch how ever many different kind of movies I wanted, free drinks, and a SHIT ton of free food (provided by LSG Skychefs, thank you very much...). From DFW to Frankfurt was 8 hrs and 45 minutes. You KNOW a brotha can't sit still for more than 20 minutes so of course I got REALLY restless. Had to drink more before I started screaming. Didn't sleep much because the time difference messed me all up. When we landed in FRA, it was 9am. Oops... kinda missed the "sleeping through the night" thing. After a 4 hour layover, boarded for the big flight to Mumbai.
This is when it got scary...
I had NO idea what time it was in Frankfurt so keeping up with departure times was weird. As I sat in the waiting area, I started to realize that hey... you're going to India. And so are all these people. When they finally called us to board, I got a little to close and personal with some of these fools that LOVED to push and shove. I was about to beat this old dude's ass for trying to get up on me. And HAIRY!! Geez - this one nigga had more hair coming out of his ears than he did in his mustache. All these sweaty niggas trying to squeeze through this one little spot wasn't good nor did it smell that way. Just saying.
And of course the smelliest one was my seat partner on the plane. Nice guy, but not so nice smelling. I wanted to break out my cologne and start spraying myself just to help out, but I thought that would be rude and since I had to spend the next 8 hours with him, I figured I'd better be cool.
Finally landed in Mumbai around 1am. And the smell... oh boy. First impressions were it smelled like 1976. You know how you can stay in an old hotel and it still smells like someone should be walking around with an afro and a dashiki? Yea. Like that.
And then the smell of spice. To where it smells like someone should be cooking somewhere, you just can't really find the kitchen. But somewhere, all over the country, someone is cooking some spicy shit.
And then... sweat. Holy heat wave all year. The average temperature is around 84 degrees. That's ALL day. It don't get better when the sun goes down, it just gets less bright. Which means that without central AC ANYWHERE, these fools HAVE to be hot.

Finally after almost getting into a shoving match with the entire passenger count of the flight at the baggage claim, I believe I finally left the airport around 2:30am. Got into the van for the hotel and headed down the most horrifying ride ever. This beats riding back with Buckley from Houston. No street signs, no street lines, just a bunch of cars trying to get somewhere. As we drove down the street, I noticed that there were seriously about 732 stray dogs just chilling on the sides of the roads - who all looked like they were breed from the same mutt. Different colors, but GEEZ that bitch was a whore.

Unpacked, drank a beer, and took an Ambien. Guess that was a bad idea to do at 4:30am because I didn't wake up until 2pm. Got dressed and met Scott at the bar for a drink. We then took another ride to the market (thank the Lord we aren't driving here - nigga can't handle that pressure) and bought a bottle of Jack so I don't have to leave ever again. Day one is over now, just waiting for my room service and drinking some Jack.

This time difference things is tripping me out. Talked to B last night on my way here and he was just chillin because it was Saturday afternoon. What? I guess I have enough time to get used to it. Start the new schedule tomorrow so it should help with the odd feelings about being here and make the time pass faster. Really shouldn't be that bad - just hope to get out and see some shit without having to feel like I'm chillin in the back seat of a bumper car. Wish me luck!

Until next time....

Summer Time Blues or Lack There Of

So if you haven't heard yet, I'll be in India this summer for work. Not necessarily the same as going to Denver, but hey... what can ya do. It's international travel and that's always cool. Just wish it was somewhere cool. They can't send me to London? I mean, can a brother go to Germany?? Nope. This brown boy is going to India. Leave at the end of May for 6 weeks and then back and forth for another 10. Let's discuss....

Our company is outsourcing our department so someone has got to go to India to train these people to learn what we do. My fear is that this is going to take a lot longer than we're anticipating - since our portion of this has taken a LOT longer than we anticipated.
But on the other hand, I will get to see some shit that I would have NEVER imagined seeing in my life. To be able to visit another country and stay for a long period of time, experiencing what they experience, seeing what they see, doing what they do is kind of exciting. I'll get to see Slum Dog Millionaire in person. Just saying. That's not racist, either. I'm brown - I can do that. I leave at the end of May so expect a "going away party" again - you know what WE do it.
Getting my passport was a nightmare. We're using an expediting service and it just makes it that much more of a hassle AND that much more expensive. It's pretty wild. I thought it was going to take an hour. Too bad it took 5. Don't even ask. And no, it's not because I'm an illegal. It's just because it's a hassle. Don't judge me.

I'll move on.

My nephew turned 21 in December. We finally got to hang out a couple of weeks ago and it was both odd and REAL fun. He came to stay on Sunday night and we spent Monday dranking like it was St Patrick's Day. I thought we was Irish. Went to Sherlocks Sunday night to watch the douche bags do their work. (I'll come back to that later.) We went to the Movie Tavern Sunday with Dav and his brother, Eric. Tankers like a champ. Stopped by Boomers on the way home for a couple. Came home for a minute and went BACK to Boomers for a couple more with B and Nathan. Stopped by Chic-Fil-A and took him to my home away from home... Mac's Tavern. That's when I realized that this nigga is DEFINITELY a professional-in-training. He's almost there... just not quite. Fool started talking gibberish at Mac's and then tried to burn my apartment down by putting foil in the microwave when we got home. I patted him on the head and went to bed. Don't judge me - this fool had to work the next morning.

Speaking of douche bags, what the hell is the deal with all of them buying clothes from the same sparkly shirt store? Why does everything have to be so shiny?? I went to Sherlocks the other day and after I looked around, I thought they bought a mirror ball for the bar. I mean, there was so much spiky hair in the place, I thought Aqua Net was sponsoring a reunion tour. So many dragons, I thought it was the Japanese New Year. So many wallet chains, I thought Rhianna was doing her "S&M" video shoot. Of course, all I could do was sit in my chair and make fun of everyone. It's what I do. Don't judge me.

Got a new phone finally. It's the new Windows 7 phone from LG. In the commercial, they claim it's the phone that "saves you from your phone". What they DON'T tell you is that it's the phone that saves you from watching what the fuck you're doing because you're ALWAYS ON YOUR PHONE! I've run into so much shit, ridden the elevator to so many unnecessary floors, looked like a HUGE nerd sitting at a table by myself staring at my phone, it's ridiculous. It's so bad ass, though. I can do everything! The only crappy part is that the battery life on it sucks anus. Maybe because I spend so much time texting/googling/playing Spell it/playing Speed, that the fucker can't keep up. I have to keep my charger in the car just in case. But hey, it's saving me from myself... so it says. Don't judge me.

BIG congrats to Sarah and Jason who tied the not a couple of weeks ago. Pretty awesome wedding. We kind of took over the whole thing and I was bartending for a minute. Yes, we only had beer and margaritas, but I was slanging like Sam Malone. Don't judge me.

Life's been pretty busy these past couple of weeks. Mostly good, but a couple of trying times for my friends and I. It's sometimes hard to look on the bright side of life, but Faith has never failed me before and I'm not going to stop believing now. It always gets better. And I mean ALWAYS. For those folks who don't always believe that, I have to believe even harder. So I will. If God is for us, who can be against us? (Romans 8:31) With the devil trying HARD to get to an especially close friend, I know that my Faith can carry us both so I will continue to pray, continue to be that positive light and hope that he can see it soon. God has never let me down, so I won't ever let him down.

You know with this trip coming up, my blog will be my out there - especially since I won't be able to text you folks everything I'm seeing. So expect a lot more of these and a LOT of pics. I've been slacking lately but it's because I don't know how to balance my time between work, cleaning my apartment, Sherlocks, Mac's, Boomer Jacks, Champps, and Aspen Creek.... Don't judge me.

Until next time...

Yo yo yo. I mean, ho ho ho.

Shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash, mousse, baby powder, lotion, toothpaste, pomade, eye drops, Prilosec OTC, AND cologne.

Geez. Every morning after I take a shower to wash off all the funk, I put all of this crap back on my body. I'm a walking CVS. Or Walgreens, depending on which corner your on. How do I expect to "keep it real" when every morning I put on every chemical known to man to make myself presentable for the world? BUT I do it because I'm single and I gotta do what I gotta do if I'm going to not die that way. Seems to have worked so far, right?

Oh yea.

Still single.

I am back home now! No more Denver. Not that it was a bad city, just wasn't home. After spending six months there, I kind of figured it'd be good to actually spend some time in the apartment I'm paying for. But honestly, my apartment up there was WAY cooler than this one so it's kind of disappointing. Yet I'd rather be in my crappy apartment in Arlington than the nice, clean, comfortable, new smelling, big tv having, nice furniture, matching dishes having, FREE... wait, what's my point?
Oh yea.
So nice to be home. Hanging with the people I like to hang with instead of Randy, Thirsty's resident "me" and Melissa, the cool bartender with the boyfriend. Not that they aren't cool people. Just cool for Thorton. It was kind of fun people watching there, though. There was always something on. Like the scary old guy with the Zach Morris haircut or was all drugged up, the fat old lady with the tramp stamp that she couldn't WAIT to show anyone, the lesbian, and of course, the tall skinny lady who loved to do karaoke... and sounded like my ass after chinese food.
Speaking of racism, got another story for you. Went to Applebee's with the bossman last week and apparently, it's the place for your karaoke needs on Thursday nights. The manager comes up to our table and says, "I have a proposition for you. We do karaoke on Thursday nights and we use this table for it. I can move you to another table and I'll buy you guys a round."
Well, hell yes we're moving. As we're gathering our things, he says, "You can be the first to sign up, too." My boss, being the shy (pft) guy he is tells him that he doesn't sing but that I would. So the manager, with a straight, pale face asks, "What are you going to sing, 'La Bamba'?"

Really?

I was so taken back by his racism, I didn't know what to say. "That was rude" was all that I had. He says, "No, I just wanted to hear it!" Then why didn't you ask the big white guy at the table?
Rude.

Haven't been working out as much since I got home. Just got really drunk. I mean busy. When I get off of work, I don't want to do jack but smoke cigarettes and drink beer. It's America's pastime, right? Or is that just me?
Anyway, Mac's has been letting me book bands for them once a month. REALLY cool. And a shit ton of fun. I love being able to do that again. Even got to book Cindy's band last weekend. They were AWESOME!! Proud brotha right here. I'm going to try to convince them to let me manage. But don't tell nobody.

Next step for work is supposed to be Minneapolis. Yup. Where the average temperature in January is 4 degrees. Where it snowed so much, the effing ROOF caved in. The roof. It's not on fire, it's covered in freaking snow and collapsing inside the stupid stadium. What the eff am I supposed to do with 4 degrees? Mexican's don't do that much coldness. The only time we are that cold is when we walk into the walk in freezer at your local restaurant. Don't lie - you know it's true.
Speaking of Minneapolis, I still want to punch Brett Favre in the face. Just thought I'd throw that in there.

Bryan got a job with me. That's both a good thing and a bad thing. With Jason, B, Josh, and Stephen all in the same building, you pretty much have to have HR on speed dial. I'm sure the ladies in the room have 4 out of the 5 digits on their phones pressed daily, just WAITING for one of us to "go too far". Eh. Whatcanyado...
I'm glad he's there, though. Makes for good times.

So Christmas is coming up and I have yet to even start shopping. I'm hoping Santa, this year, will just bring me presents to give to other people so I don't have to do it. I have 1 out of 254 that I have to buy. Just not motivated to go out and spend more money. I hate last minute shoppers. They're always in a bad mood. Like it's MY fault you like to procrastinate. OUCH! I think I just bit my tongue...
(Badoom chic)

Speaking of "badoom chic", I sent that to my mother the other day via text message. She had no clue what that meant. I told her to sound it out and she still couldn't hear it. I "laughed out loud", but I'm sure she didn't know what that meant either.

Gonna get up and run in the morning. I ain't trying to be a fat ass again. It's not enough to use so many chemicals that I could be radioactive. I gotta try and look sexy too. Like I said. Still single. Just saying.

Until next time...

HOLY SLACKER!!

Ok. I get it. My blog sucks. I'm sorry I got kinda busy LIVING REAL LIFE to post shit on here. Ha.
Just kidding.

So much to talk about. Let's start with the ridiculous.

Marco got married a couple of weekends ago. How wild is that! My nigga is all grownsed up. Tear. I love Whitney, though, so it's all gravy. The wedding was REAL tight. But of course... there's a story. Like to hear it, here it go:
So Marco wanted the groomsmen to meet at Dave and Buster's at noon just to hang out for a bit before we had to meet at the place to take pictures and whatnot. Which was a-ok with me. I had gone out the night before and woke up a little tipsy still so I wanted to see how far I could keep this going. So I got there around noon thirty and everyone is drinking water and tea.... uh uh. Not this fool. I had to get a beer. Ordered a Bud Light and felt a little awkward, but I figured it would go away after the first one. Drank up there and headed toward the place to get there by 3pm. Pictures aren't until 5pm so we got about 2 hours to kill. So what do we do? What anyone in that position would do - drank beer and played poker until it was time for pics. Which was pushed back, after awhile, until 6pm. Sweet. Keep drinking.
Time for pictures and we're out of beer. Oh but wait... what's this? A bottle of wine? Ok! So we crack it open and drink 'er up. Take pictures with big smiles and line up for the wedding... as Zo and I were still hitting up the bottle. As we march down the aisle, I realize that I am not EXACTLY sober, but oh not drunk yet. At all. Just having fun. I realize this because as I'm walking down the aisle, I slap Anthony on the back and stick my finger in Cindy's ear.
Oops.
After the ceremony, Zo and I find the bottle and finish it up. Hey, the line was long. What do you want from us. The reception was crowded but so much fun. Haven't hung out with some of these folks in a LONG time so of course we're all tripping out and having a grand ol' time. By the end of the wedding, I start feeling a little happy.... so I want to go to Mac's, of course. Why not? Head to Mac's after the wedding and meet some folks there.
Now, let's stop here for a minute. If you know me, you know that I NEVER get too drunk to drive my ass home. That's just not something I do. I always stop soon enough before leaving time to sober up enough to drive. That being said....
I'm sitting with Cindy and Phillip and keep taking shots. As there is yet another sitting in front of me, I turn to them and say, "Alright... if I take this shot, you guys are driving me home." And after trying to pawn me off on someone else (Thanks, "friends". Pft) they drive me home. So I sit shotgun and start talking shit - just because that's what I do. We get to the apartment and I walk inside. This is when I realize where I fucked up....
Now let's stop here and explain again. If you DO know me, you know when I've been drinking, I NEED my phone with me at all times. I am a drunk texter by definition. I think I'm in the dictionary.
After COMPLETELY tearing my apartment up, I realize that I left my phone in the cupholder of the car. Oops. So I sit down and think....
"Alright, Roger. You left your phone in the car. Let's just get your work phone.... oh wait.... it's in your jacket pocket in your car... which is at Mac's...."
So, in my drunken thinking process, I decide to do what any sane-drunk guy would do. I am going to walk to Mac's Tavern to get my damn phone. I consciously decide to put on wind pants and my running shoes - it's a long hike - and take off out of my apartment.
I make it out of my apartment complex parking lot and KNOW this isn't a good idea. But I can't stop walking! So I just keep going. I make it down the street further and look at my shadow walking in front of... who is not exactly walking straight. I think I even yelled at it at some point to straighten up. I try to walk with the line of sidewalk but it's not going so well. So, again, I do what any sane-drunk person would do. I start running. I look better running than not walking straight.
And again... I realize this is a bad idea. So I stop. And now.... man.... I'm tired. I think about sitting down, but realize how bad of an idea that is. I get to I-30 and realize that the bridge across the freeway doesn't really have a spot to walk. So I did what any sane-drunk man would do and started running across the bridge. NOT realizing how fucking long that bridge was. But I kept trucking. Finally made it across and, drenched in sweat, really wanted to stop. But now, I'm so close. So I keep going.
By the time I get to Mac's, I find my phone, realize how ridiculously sober I am, get in my car, and drive home.
Ha. Professional.
Ironically, I make two texts: one to B and the other to Cindy to tell her what I had done and to get my damn phone. Went home and went to bed. Eh. What can ya do....

Birthday party was last weekend. And was an ABSOLUTE success. Didn't hit the mark I was trying to hit, by I still broke the record and I am a-ok with that. Still went home alone, but didn't get there until 5:30am.... eh. What can ya do....

So I was running yesterday for the first time in awhile. And here, at the complex in Denver, it gets pretty busy in the gym. And I hate people in there when I'm trying to run because I get all self-conscious and I feel rushed when people are waiting for the treadmill. Get off me, nigga. So I'm running along and I see this dude walk in... sort of. He had one of those walking "impediments". You know. With the one big shoe? And all that flashed in my head was, "Well, I ain't gotta worry about this nigga...."
Of course, I just shook my head, got off the treadmill, and walked to my apt with my head down. I'm going to hell.

Work is kicking my ass. But that's all I have to say about that. Partly because the boss man reads my blog.

Hi TJ.

On that note, I'll be home this weekend for my dad's and B's birthday. So if you wanna hang, holla at me. I promise I won't leave my phone in the cupholder.

Until next time....