Wednesday
Happy birthday, Walt!
Poor Walt. He was incredibly smart, really nice, but also socially awkward and very tall -- but not into sports -- so he stuck out for ridicule. We got along well. He was always encouraging me to take the test to get into Mensa, of which he was a member.
Secret writing:
I am never going to drink again. Every time I do, I end up puking. Not a good thing.
Heh. See, the problem was I didn't like beer, so I would drink booze -- which would get me drunk too quickly. Thankfully I figured this out and slowed my pace... eventually.
Thursday
And here is a diagram of Jess's birthmarks, rather over-diagrammed. Why? I don't know. I imagine it has a few things to do with the comments below and to the left.
I think every "good" kid gets the urge I give voice to here -- the urge to act out, be bad. As someone once said, "Nice guys don't get paid." My love life was really sucking right about now, and seeing lots of female friends pair off with assholes didn't help. And I'm sure whatever happened at Liz's party the night before instigated this particular rant.
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