So last night, Stanley comes into the restaurant and tells me that New Years Eve, Marty had gotten so drunk that he decided it was a good idea to feel what it’s like to have a beer bottle smashed over his head. I’ve wondered that a few times, and it seemed like a better idea with a few beers in me too. So here goes a story that illustrates one angle of why I don’t drink anymore. Marty brought a empty beer bottle down on his head, knocking himself out for about three minutes, and lacerating the side of his head and ear, both sides. When Stanley got him to wake up, he poured some Jim Bean on the ear (hardcore, huh?) and than cut both sides of his mouth with a switchblade. Stanley told me he had to cut Marty off, who was still trying to drink. I’ve got scars from drinking related craziness on my ribs… If it was a thousand in one chance that you’d hurt yourself or someone else or someone would hurt you, would it be worth taking?

At night, Jason wanted me to watch two episodes of Carnivale on DVD with him. He told me ten o’clock, but ten is getting close and I ask him if we’re about to get started. He tells me that Allie hasn’t showered yet and she wanted to before I came upstairs to watch the movie. Sometime around eleven o’clock the episode starts. That annoyed me a lot. We ate some pizza, and that was good.

The dishwasher maintenance guy was in the kitchen in the morning, and after he used the “Lime-away” on the dish tank, we discovered the back of the jug gave instructions for cleaning cement mixers with it. This, of course, prompted me and Ryan to start thinking of ways to use this hydrochloric acid for our own amusement. We got a empty number ten can, tossed in two oyster shells, which are almost completely calcium, and poured the stuff over them. It started fizzing immediately. In the attached picture you can see the highly scientific probe. Although it may look like a rusty coat hanger unfolded so we can poke at the shells, it’s not. It’s a science probe. The acid ate the calcified grit off of the shells and put a hole in one of them. We called the experiment after the salad woman started complaining about the odor, which was barely noticeable standing directly over the can. She just likes to complain.

At Freedom Place, I played a lot of hackey sack. In my new shoes, which are lightweight, it was a different game. My feet were faster and more responsive without the heavy boots, but lacked the same amount of surface for striking the sack. Amanda picked me for leading a small group, which was bad, because I had about twenty seconds for skimming the notes she gave me before actually doing any work. And also because I barely have a voice left from what I believe to be a humidity problem where I sleep. I think the air is too arid and it dries out my throat. My group decided it was nap time, I didn’t really mind. After I got done talking to no one, the group sort of degraded into quiet social time. The kid Andrew, told Matt, a adult, that the week before another one of the “adults” had told him some things that led him to believe she was interested. Let me tell you about Andrew, and the “adult” Annie.

Andrew is, I’m going to guess, seventeen years old. He’s loud, obnoxious, immature, and a good portion of the time stupid. He’s not funny, or clever, or witty. Now, let’s move on to Annie. Annie is probably a seven or eight on the purely physical scale. She’s lean, got some good assets, and nice hair. She doesn’t strike me as bright or intelligent, but not specifically dumb. She’s about nineteen, I’d guess. So let’s put this all together here, although I’m no expert about the rules of attraction, and we’re making the assumption that Andrew isn’t making this up, Annie could do so much better. If she actually does date that kid I might tell her that she’s stupid. Or maybe I won’t, to each their own, but I hate to see low grade guys with high grade females… Well I think maybe I gave her too much credit with “high grade”, she’s… maybe “mid grade”. She’s got a good body, but that’s about where her appeal ends, as far as I’m concerned. Also, at Freedom Place, I tore the crotch of my pants slightly playing hackey sack, and if people (including everyone I came across until I go to bed after ending this entry) could get a peek at my goods, if they caught me at the right angle.

After Freedom Place, the pastor invited me to go to this new Mexican place in town that has a unpronounable name, I think I mentioned that Katie and me had gone there before. I didn’t know it was like a small group dinner or something, I thought it was just the pastor and her boy. So now I’m in a restaurant with a bunch of people from church telling me that they missed me at church on Sundays, which I haven’t gone to in months, and hinting at they want a reason why. That sort of sucked, but the dinner was good, and after the initial inquisition was over, it was good company.

At my parents, my mom told me the dog was doing better, and he seemed to be in better spirits than when I saw him last. We talked about health issues mainly, but also wind farms and the up coming pro-life march in DC, which I plan on going on, if I can get the day off. Than I went home, played some Warcraft, watched another episode of Carneval, and than came down here. Now… It’s bed time.