Good Morning!

Saturday morning I awoke, still sitting on my couch, a warm Coor's light in my hand, the afternoon sun peaking in through the blinds, and I was still a little drunk.

And this is what it is to be on your own.

Mike, Brian, and I finally had some down time in which to ritualistically drink our selves into a stupor. It was a the first time we've had since we've arrived to bond between each other and our surroundings. What was supposed to be a quiet night at home drinking the typical white twenty-something beers of choice (Blue Moon, Land Shark, Yuengling, and Mickeys) slowly became a night of hedonistic filled debauchery. Brian giggled insensibly to himself. Mike did his darnedest impersonation of Linda Blaire by spewing forth vomit in such a fury I thought his skeleton was sure to follow. It all slowly faded away into Saturday morning.

Saturday was a day of rest which lead into another party made entirely of Navy guys. Each one did their best to represent a different facet of the frat boy mind set. Beer pong was the game of choice as it has seemingly become my generations past time of choice. Skate videos were the only form of entertainment. And one excitable little man was discussing the fine points of why he wouldn't do gay porn (mainly because men have muscle based asses while a females is softer and smoother). Before I left another guy quaintly described how he would deal with his recruiter if they ever were to meet again... With a swift punch to the dick.

We headed home, after being worn out, watched Saturday Night Live, and finally I got to feel the pillow beneath my head. I dreamed of sitting in a theater with Jason, an old friend of mine, while some middle aged woman tried to hit on me. She attempted to make out with my cheek and then stuck a twenty dollar bill in my mouth. The dream moved to my old neighborhood as I stood on the front porch of my little brother's best friend Mark preparing cookies for everyone. He stomped them into crumbs and I awoke moments before pummeling his face.

Brian was tapping me on the back asking me to join the party. I came out at the early morning hours of 12:46 as Mike was finishing up playing Kingdom Hearts 2. Mike ran out to get his hair cut. Brian and I began to play some Sonic the Hedgehog. Mike returned quicker then expected and dragged us out to Wal-Mart as it seemed his barber was not opened on a Sunday. We loaded the car with empty beer bottles hoping to gain a small fortune, but alas there are no bottle returns in Virginia. Apparently the vast majority of states don't, a fact I had never known. New York, and ten other states, are apparently in the minority there. Which begs the question, what do the other bag ladies in other states do for fun? The Wal-Mart parking lot was the sad substitute we found to leave our empties in after embarassing myself by approaching the Wal-Mart greeter with what must of been a bizarre sight, me with a cart full of empty beer bottles. Mike got his ears lowered as Brian and I combed through the soft lit halls of Wal-Mart experiencing an uneasy bit of Deja Vu. It seems that all Wal-Marts are designed the same and this one tickled the back of our brains and helped recall home. We expected to walk outside to familiar surroundings. This was not the case.

We drove home and sat around. I read some more of Ayn Rand's The Anthem which is great, but quite depressing. Brian finally picked up the collected trade of The Watchmen and began to devouring. I cooked some tuna noodle for diner. We played some more Sonic the Hedgehog. Watched a disappointing George Carlin special. Followed it up with a disappointing bit of Adult Swim. Then they hit the hay while I vegged in front of the television.

Nothing exciting yet, but tomorrow I fill out paperwork at my new job.

LONE STAR SERVER.

Brian