rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

brother calls me up.
“what’re you doing, scumbag?”
“I’m watching “Stand and Deliver.” it sucks.”
“you mean porno?”
“yeah,” I say, “I’m downloading it at a feverish rate. what’s up.”
“dude, prep Mar.”
“prep Mar for what?”
“you know.”
it’s funny how all of my conversations with Mike are like this in some way. “no, dumbass, I don’t know. what?”
he pauses, and the says, consternated, “I’m brining a case of Guinness, a case of Harp’s, and about a pound of reefer.”
wow.
“do whatever it is you have to do,” he says, “but get your drinking shoes on. go running, don’t eat. work up an appetite. we’re going all day. so is Mar. it’s the irish in us.”
well, it’s probably more the retard in us, but we’ll still have fun. I’m not much for reefer. Irish funeral. should be interesting.

so I’m kind of seeing a girl right now who’s more interested in a guy who she broke up with six months ago and doesn’t talk to her any more. I’ve got nothing on that motherfucker. it’s been bothering me for, well, a while now. but I guess it’s not worth the trouble sweating it anymore. if she’s into it, she’ll call me. if she’s not, then fuck it. gotta salvage some self respect.
yeah, I’ve got no idea how much I believe any of that.

Duke beat Indiana tonight. they’re like the Yankees of college basketball. I fuckin’ hate them. but they’re good.