Monday, May 31, 2004

Went to a pool hall last night with the German, his vacationing sister, the Jerk, and Math Jesus.

I must say, it was mighty fun. Though I must admit, I was hesitant at first:

Shotgun Toter: "Why would you want to go? It's just an excuse for them to check you out and put their hands on your ass when you bend over. Not to mention sticks and balls have so many connotations."

me: "Yeah ..."

Needless to say, I went anyway. I don't like to brag but I fuckin' rock at it! Pool, that is. Not, getting sexually assaulted.

Okay, so I wasn't crazy good, but I put my share of balls in corner pockets (cannotations indeed.)

All the while, whenever something went wrong, I would say, "Hand of God ... right now would be good." So by definition: God only existed when I needed Him. And by extension, he's like that sad oaf who's had an unrequited infatuation with you since elementary school when he realized you both had a habit of pulling doors clearly labelled "PUSH," thereby, consistently being at your disposal when you need a ride to, yet another, abusive boyfriend's crack den.

Hope that made sense.

I think I might just live in the rec. room when I go to university:

"This table's mine, bitch!"

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