Please Slap My Ass One More Time

Wow. I don't even know where to start really. It has been a very odd 2 weeks. It is like the polls have switched and everyone has been knocked on their ass.
So I am going to start bitching about everything that is weird and then I am going to get into my really fucked up and not at all sexy night.

So, I will be honest, after my polling and thinking about hookers and such, I felt really awkward and unlike myself. The entire discussion was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. I know I asked for outside opinion, but instead I was feeling bullied and didn't really receive the kind of response I was looking for. So, that made me feel weird.

I found out a friend of mine has epilepsy. She doesn't know that I know. I was overwhelmed with such empathy and pain when I heard. She can never drive again. She takes lots of pills three times a day and will continue too for the rest of her life. I want to cry for her.

I also found out shortly after, that a friend of mine from high school OD-ed and is in a coma with no brain function. I didn't know he did drugs. He was a really funny, charismatic guy. We were really good friends in the 9th grade. He got a little too cool shortly after and frankly became sort of a douche. But everyone was an asshole in high school, so I am not holding it against him. That made me sad. I don't want to go to any more funerals.

I cut my finger when I was chopping carrots for my curry. Before I was even sure that I had cut it, I started freaking out. This rush of me being a total failure and not being able to handle this (minor) situation knocked into me before I even saw any blood. There was blood, but it wasn't that bad. My roommate helped me. He saw the crack in my facade. I am not as independent as I wish. Especially when there is blood and spiders involved.

I am homesick. My parents are fucking crazy (no seriously), but I miss those bastards and their kooky ways.

My roommate started going back out with his ex. She hates my guts because she thinks I like him. Which is not true. We get along really great, that is it. So, she is bitch to me in my own house and refuses to acknowledge me. My roommate is a pussy and does nothing about it. We don't make curry like we used to anymore. As if I want her sloppy seconds... No thanks.

That guy who got decapitated on the bus to Winnipeg. What the fuck?!? I told a girl that I work with the story as I was shocked that she hadn't heard. She took it worse than I did. I had no idea the impact that story was going to have on her. It was and still remains a very fucked up, random, tragedy that makes my skin start crawling off my body to go hide in the closet (that is where I like to go when I am upset).

Yeah, so everything is weird.

Here is my comic relief/disbelief/wtf!!!

I get off of work last night and I am ready to take the town on. I haven't had a night out in a very long time. I go over to my old apartment because there were people coming in from all out of town. (This part of the story is really not important, so I am just going to skip through it)

So, I was about to go home when 3 girls from Ontario ask me if I want to go to the bar with them. I say yes. I already knew this night was going to be total debauchery and madness. We get to the bar and I spot two guys who are in my summer school class. We join them and order some pitchers.

Last Call.

"Hey, you ladies want to go listen to some records at my place", said the gent with the blue shirt from my class.
It sounds just as cheesy as it reads on paper.
We go outside the bar to smoke and we hung out there for about ten minutes. Meanwhile some drunk guy in black, leather shorts(the really short kind) starts talking to us. Then he shows us his ass (about 10 times), while showing his wiener to the post-party gridlock on the street.

I think it is time for us to go listen to some records.

We get to this guys apartment and it seems that the party had already started with out us. I walk into the narrow hallway debating whether or not to take my shoes off. I look up and stop dead.
"Hey?!"
"I was wondering when I was going to run into you again." Said the familiar face in front of me.
"Yeah, me too. Awkward."
It was Mister Toes.
Every time I go out to the particular bar that we were at earlier in the evening, I think to myself, today is the day when I run into him. Last night was the night. I never prepared myself or thought about what I was going to do when the day came, but I knew it was coming. My lack of preparation explains my total awkwardness. We talked for a bit and caught up. I wanted to punch him in the face and then fuck him, again. I would even let him slap my ass if that is what would make him happy. I wanted to touch him. I really need to get over this guy.
Anyways, we walk into a smoky living room with 8 guys in there who are listening to records and snorting (lots of) coke. We drink, we talk and we are all merry. We decide to go home. The sun was coming out. I hate going to bed after the sun has rose. It isn't natural.