So I was fine until I sat down...

...fucking Tequilla...

Tonight was a good time, and Jason and I have decided that this will be the new place to sit, and talk, and drink, and watch the pretty ladies go by...

OMG, there were the "god damns!" all over the place tonight. Long Beach Scenesters are good. Good God, they are good.

Anyrate, razor_violins said "hey, I got this message from this girl that there's this place down in Long Beach, Que Sera? And there's this club..." So I said "sure" and we lit out and then boom boom boom, we dance,and boom boom boom, we sit at the bar, and boom boom boom, we drink...and I stare, and Jason is all cool and non-Shallant (cuz I can't think on how to spell it right now) and the girl that he had kinda wanted to intro me to is kinda into him, and we're talking and eavesdropping and watching the pretty girls with tatoos, and the ho's and the pretty girls sans tattoos go by, and it's all good.

And then the line for the bathroom! Dear lord...Long...but shorter than the woman's bathroom, so the girls were lining up to go to OUR stall, and it was...um...Hot?

Anyrate, there was this guy who was REALLY REALLY piss drunk, and was trying to get us to do shots, but was giving us shit, and then thinking that Jason was going to beat him down (not Jason! nicest guy...even if he did go to that NYC Ivy leage school *smirk*), and then kept talking to me as we stood in line for the bathroom, and I had to piss something horrible, and then when I get out, he's at the bar with shots lined up for Jason and I, and they're TEQUILLA! The mother of all evil alcohols, and we're like fugg it, and do them down, and boof, it's dancing time again.

There are many women on the dance floor, and many really WHITE guys, but it's all good. No *real* attitude, but in my paranoid state of being, I felt the eyes of judgment upon me, which is why I so often dance with my eyes closed, so as to not see...

Anyrat, hot dogs and goodbyes, and really lewd but amusing flyers/posters; and really blackness later (Jason is like me, and booze brings out the Black Man inside) and then home again with no problems. We've decided that again we need to do this thing. And Next time I'll drive. Good call.

So, some things that I've realized tonight (Or "Things that Anthony knows, but keeps on forgetting")

Most black women find me weird. But those that go for me flirt hard, and are nice about it. I have to figure that one out.

It doesn't matter what you look like: If you have nice legs and butt, and you're wearing a short skirt and boots, you've got my attention H. O. T.

Tequilla is the little death.

I like the way you move it, move it, I like the way you MOVE IT.

People should NEVER slap a man on the back when he's peeing. It's just rude. (That's for you, drunk guy!)

Women who sweat when they dance are hot. Women who aren't afraid to touch a sweaty man are even hotter.

Ladies: If you stare at a guy who you find creepy, he will think that you are staring because you are attracted to him. Just look, laugh, and move on. It'll save you heartach and headache late.

Ladies: Do NOT ignore men who tap you on the shoulder. It's not only rude, but you might be missing out on something cool. Like a free drink.

Guys: We should NOT randomly grab asses. It's just bad form. And even if she thinks it's hot, it just gives the rest of us bad ideas.

Though I find *some* skinny girls cute, I like the ones with something to them. Sorry, the skinny girls just aren't (please excuse me, I'm DRUNK) fuckable. That's right, I said it, They ain't Fuckable. Keep the skinny beeyatches away from me, cuz I need something to hang onto...man that sounds bad...but when I say skeeny, I have a lotta leeway...I'd have to show you...I'm just too out of it to explain...Just note: I like a sturdy woman.

Legs. It's all about LEGS. Damn my years as a runner. I am spoiled.

Bars should NOT try to skam folk into believing that it's later than it is...it's just not cool. And they lose money on that lat call action.

Tequilla is the devil's lube. Yurg.

Living in New Haven has well prepared me for the strange "Hey Brutha, what's happening!? Can I talk to you for a moment" ploy. Don't ask me shit if you ain't being just friendly, or bleeding. And even then, "Hey, my strong black bruthas!" is not a good intro.

Parking is a bitch everywhere.

Ladies dig the tall guys. Go Jason!

I really should NOT be allowed anywhere near tequilla...urg...

Doritos always sound like a good idea at the time...

I should learn to take a camera and a pad and paper with me wherever I go. I always see something that I wanna record for posterity, and I always think of/hear a great quote that I continually find a way to forget.

Sleep comes when you're not expecting it.

I think that I have developed a thing for girls with tattoos. Nothing serious, but enough for me to go "oooooooo!"

Michael and Jen's theory is correct: Ass Crack. Not really sexy.

Ugly, uncoordinated, funky looking guys do get the girl. Just that girl is kind of a ho. But he's not bitter and single, so it balances out...some...sorta...

I really need to get contact lenses again. Sweat+dancing+glasses=accident waiting to happen.

Scenesters are fucking everywhere.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Ouch.

So I got up moving today, and did my grandma's bidding and did yardwork. Hoed, and mowed, and clipped, and trimmed, and plucked, and pruned, and weeded.

And then, I went out to try and run.

Sad. Sad, sad, sad, sad. And ouch.

I managed to get off to a slow, slow start, and well, was only able to pull off about mile. And walked about about 880 yards (800meters) (half mile) of it. Man, I'm so disappointed with myself. And so much in pain pain pain.

Right. Long road ahead. But I'll get there. But most note to self: Do not go running directly after doing yardwork. Jackass...

The one thing that really pisses me off about it, is that I can dance all over the floor for for 5 hours straight (If you've seen me dance, you know what I'm talkin' about...that high impact high cardio thing that I do sometims), and can iron man a hockey game, but I can't run a freaking mile.

I so have to get going on stuff. Idiot, idiot, idiot.