It Has Come To My Attention
that I did not post a single entry yesterday. Where the hell was I? I don't remember.
This is an apology.
You see, I recently lost my wallet. Which means that I lost both my social security card and my driver's license. The social security I can do without. The license I cannot.
Last night was poetry night at Java Joe's. Last month, as you may remember, I went to poetry night in Lamoni. In Lamoni, they do not serve alcohol where they read poetry. I resolved after that night never to go to poetry night without a drink again, because audiences are some scary damn people when you haven't had anything to drink.
Last night was poetry night at Java Joe's. I lost my wallet. That means, because nobody believes that I am as old as I am, that I cannot purchase the drink at the location itself.
Thus was born the concept of Bring Your Own Booze. But I did not have any beer in the house to bring. In point of fact, the only liquid entertainment that I could lay claim to consisted of a 750ml bottle of Jameson, the triple-distilled Irish whiskey. It wasn't full, of course, but then it wasn't empty either.
Anyway, enough about that.
I gifted the book, just like I said I would. At least I think I did. I remember taking it with me. And now it isn't in my apartment. Which would have to mean that it was gifted, yes? Oh dear. How does a person inquire into that sort of thing? Shall I just ask her whether or not I actually gave it to her? Or shall I just pretend like I did, and nobody will be any the wiser until that embarassing moment in several years when I mention something about it and she tells me the truth and then I say,
- Oh bother. There is a rumbly in my tumbly, and I must seek out some breakfast honey. Goodbye, Piglet.
This is an apology.
You see, I recently lost my wallet. Which means that I lost both my social security card and my driver's license. The social security I can do without. The license I cannot.
Last night was poetry night at Java Joe's. Last month, as you may remember, I went to poetry night in Lamoni. In Lamoni, they do not serve alcohol where they read poetry. I resolved after that night never to go to poetry night without a drink again, because audiences are some scary damn people when you haven't had anything to drink.
Last night was poetry night at Java Joe's. I lost my wallet. That means, because nobody believes that I am as old as I am, that I cannot purchase the drink at the location itself.
Thus was born the concept of Bring Your Own Booze. But I did not have any beer in the house to bring. In point of fact, the only liquid entertainment that I could lay claim to consisted of a 750ml bottle of Jameson, the triple-distilled Irish whiskey. It wasn't full, of course, but then it wasn't empty either.
Anyway, enough about that.
I gifted the book, just like I said I would. At least I think I did. I remember taking it with me. And now it isn't in my apartment. Which would have to mean that it was gifted, yes? Oh dear. How does a person inquire into that sort of thing? Shall I just ask her whether or not I actually gave it to her? Or shall I just pretend like I did, and nobody will be any the wiser until that embarassing moment in several years when I mention something about it and she tells me the truth and then I say,
- Oh bother. There is a rumbly in my tumbly, and I must seek out some breakfast honey. Goodbye, Piglet.
posted by The Vicar at 12:20 AM
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