It’s a good thing I’m writing this for me and not for the readers because I literally get less than 20 hits on the weekend. Seriously, does nobody poop on Saturday and Sunday? Because that’s usually where I imagine everyone is sitting when they read my blog. I mean, I try to be considerate and write it the perfect length. Not too short so you have to keep searching for other stuff to look at. And not so long that your legs start falling asleep long after you’ve done your business. I’m here for you.
But I get it. The weekend is supposed to be full of fun and getting all the stuff done you didn’t get to do during the week. There is always a spike on Monday as people catch up on my weekend shenanigans which have been much fewer these days. But, have no fear… something is surely bound to come my way. And then tomorrow which will be tonight by time I post this, I’m going to an open mic poetry. And yes, I’m going to read a poem. Not sure which. Depends on how much vodka I get in my system before it’s my turn. May be a long one. May be a short one. I really wish I knew a hypnotist. I’d get this public speaking fear hypnotized right out of me. And my love of junk food. And I’d have them add a love of exercise. And waking up early. In a perfect world. Oh well…
I went out tonight with my one and only Dayton friend. We went to some little shopping area that had a couple bars, a couple ice cream places, some restaurants, some shopping and a stage with musicians playing outside. Which was perfect because by the evening the weather was perfect. It rained on and off all day. Mostly on. So we went to a little pub and then grabbed some froyo and then went and listened to music while trying to peep out single men who I could attempt to use my new pick up line on…”So, tell me, what’s a girl got to do to slither her face in your pants.” It’s a work in progress. But, I didn’t get to use it because all the men had women (and children) with them or the men were children or at least at that line where you didn’t know. You know, the kind of boys who get teachers sent to jail because they look like men but they aren’t yet? So, we just dropped the cheesy pickup lines and finished listening to the music. When it was over, we parted ways. I left and went the wrong way, which was in the direction of a country bar I wanted to go to. I had put it in the gps and wasn’t paying attention and just headed in that direction. I guess my subconscious really wanted to go there. So I went in for a little bit. Not too long. Long enough to realize that they were only playing songs that had line dances to go with them and everybody was doing a line dance, including Flea Market Guy’s doppelganger. And he was getting down. I watched him shakin his groove thang for quite a while and then I ended up leaving before I talked myself into going up to him to see if he would talk murdery stuff with me or before I used my slithering line on him.
And then I came home before the stroke of midnight before my princess act wore off. All in all, it was a good night.
So I’m off to bed, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I’m building a surprise fence for my daughter’s chickens which is not really a surprise at all. The surprise is that I can build a fence at all, I think. So, I’ll see ya on the flip side.
RouletteWeekend 