It’s 11:19pm. The girl who caught my fancy left the pub for a one-nighter. How I wish that was my style, but I didn’t care enough to put up the fight.

Or I’m chickens***.

Maybe it’s the extra 50 lbs. I need to drop from my hips. I doubt that, but then again… Granted, I need to get back in shape and be somewhat visually non-repulsive when people meet me for the first time. But the girls who’ve canonized themselves to my life wouldn’t have cared – which means I’m not doing what I can to make their lives that much more beautiful.

Either way, I have the potential to remedy my faults. I fail them when I choose not to. Chocolate by little chocolate…

I don’t blame them for leaving. I have an ear for music & tempo. I should have been in-step.

You can learn to sing a woman’s song & still fail to fulfill their essential needs. I think they call it “karaoke.”

Wow, the ways in which I’ve failed.

Either way, I’m two sentences and a bathroom break from leaving the lot. Blogging takes its sweet-a** time when done from an iPhone 3g while listening to 2008 Jack Johnson concerts I downloaded from Archive.org.

I’ll add my editor to the site tomorrow. I hope y’all love him. He’ll add a perspective that’s sorely needed.

Never thought I’d just be the “funny” one. Life is so beautiful.

That’s what I get for wanting to watch the Bulls game at a bar. Life moves on around me.

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