Back of a Head

I used to think you could tell a lot about a person by the back of their head.
Whether or not they're fat, or hot, or tall, or skinny, or ugly, or in a wheelchair.
But then there was today.
And today, everything changed.

I was sitting on the train enjoying my evening commute when I saw a back of a head a few rows up that was beautiful.
This girl had a really sexy back of a head.
Shiny brown hair, and a little knot tied.
The back of a head of a skinny girl.
I was blinded by its sheer beauty.
And then she stood up.
And she was fat.
And my heart sank; I was shocked.
How could someone like that have such a pretty back of a head?

And then I realized...conditioner.

Slavery

I want to know when the word "slave" was changed to "intern" in the English language.
I just find the whole situation a little ridiculous.
I work for peanuts.
Literally.
My boss keeps a bowl of peanuts by her desk,
and everyday I take a few more.

Procrastination

I tell everyone that I'm applying for a job, but all I do is sit at my computer and look things up on the web.
I have a little more than a week.

I need to get my shit together.
How did that become a phrase?

I'll check out wikipedia.

The Shawshank Redemption

It was the same night as the first guy circle.
We came back from our night of debauchery, yet none of us were tired.
We put on the television, but because it was so late the only thing on was HBO.
And the Shawshank Redemption was playing.
We started watching at 3 am, and stayed up through the entire movie.
We were exhausted, and even though we had seen it before nothing could take our eyes off that film.

Which brings me to my next point: The Shawshank Redemption just might be the best movie ever made.

I mean, the jail, the warden, the money, the murder, the boat, Morgan Freeman?

Not a dry eye in the room.

Guy Circles

Lately I love dancing.
I used to hate going to clubs and being forced to stand around awkwardly.
Some friends would go off and dance, but others would stick by me.
We would walk around, hunting for our prey. Someone to talk to, Anyone to keep us off the dance floor. And finding that special someone...well, that would be magic.

"Hey Lauren, how are you?..." "nope, haven't seen him..." "I know, it sure is loud by all the music" "Should I shout?" "Was that a yes?" "It's just so loud; do you want to go outside?" "oh, you want to keep on dancing?"
"no, sure...it's cool..." "I'm just going to hang around over here" "...cunt"

When I look back at my club memories, for the most part all I remember is dread.

But then something changed.
Allow me to introduce Guy circles.
They began in Myrtle Beach South Carolina, in the heart of our nation, close to a strange abundance of Shooting Range/Civil War Museums.

Instead of pretending to have a good time as we looked for girls, we stopped looking for girls and started having a good time.
Five guys; with our own circle and everybody wanted in.

Girls no longer mattered, fun mattered.
Don't get me wrong we danced with girls, and some of us even danced with 60 year olds (it wasn't the norm, but the truth is the truth).

But it was because we were a group of fun guys hanging out that we had a great time dancing.
We weren't girls, yet plenty of guys came over to join our circle...which was creepy...very creepy.

It was in South Carolina where I realized that as long as you have the right mindset, you can make anything fun.

...And also, you have to be drunk.

...Like I'm talking crunked out of your mind shitfaced.

updates

Okay,

I know it's been a while since the last time I wrote anything, but I've been busy, and I use that term loosely. Really loosely.

Also, What , 4 people read this...the complaints haven't exactly been deafening.

Regardless, I now present...UPDATES!