friday nights and lonely sundays

i hate them.

all of you. them.

there is no solace in knowing the game. no comfort in realizing how to PR, front, fake, and mimic my way to pussy, affection, and attention.

i hate you anyway.

In fact, dare I say it, because I can see how I can get you, because I see what I must manipulate, if only I choose to do the work, to "get" you, I think less of you.

I've been out on about 12 dates in the last 30 days. All of them were great. Most of them... I don't know... well (counting)...

Yeah. I think I can/could have gotten a date with all of them without much effort. Two phone calls and a quick pitch. If that.

And that means, if I played my cards right, I could get laid in about 5 days. From... yeah, right now.

And I don't want it. I don't want them. I don't want... well, ok, the thought gives me pause. It's been awhile.

But yeah. I hate them. All of 'em.

There's more to say, but I'm drunk, I have to work all weekend, and, well, no one reads this anyway. Yawn.