Some drunk bleach blond was screaming into a microphone: You’re all a bunch of blasé motherfuckers. The room was heavy with the stench of body odor, cigarettes, and cheap beer. No one wanted to dance except for  the gay boy in the red dress. Sorry, girlfriend, none of these hipsters want to dance to your shitty band. Somewhere on Mission Street, up a narrow staircase, there is a party and everyone is there. This girl that I used to see at parties all the time, back in 2006 (before our mutual friend moved to LA) was there. I didn’t say hi to her. My friend’s sister’s ex-boyfriend was there. I didn’t say hi to him. The gay boy in the red dress, who moved to NYC (but hated it, so now he’s back) was there.  I jumped into his arms, and then we went and got 40s together. We talked about the good ol’ times and exchanged digits again.

This boy I usd to have sex with was  there. I didn’t even notice him at first. I walked by. He tweaked my nipple. I looked up to see who it was, and he smiled. And just like that he was chugging my 40 and saying how much he missed me, with one arm wrapped tightly around my waist  asking me if I’d been a “good girl.” I hadn’t seen him in a month. He stopped calling, and I never call boys. I lost my phone; let me get your number again. He was an asshole, but his phone was new, so I believed him. He asked me if I missed him. I said, “I guess you can say that,” I really did; “I’ve been keeping busy, you know.” I set myself up for him calling me a slut, and there’s something about how he reminds me of a seventies pornstar that validates him calling me a slut. And at 2 AM on Friday nite, I really missed that sentiment: feeling pretty, pretty slutty.

U2 is, at present, seriously a crappy band.  Their music sounds like a nature documentary on whales in heat (slow, moaning, and reverberated through an ocean).  I’m even dubious of how good they have ever been.  Where are the U2 fans?  I have never seen anyone wearing them as a shirt of spray painting their name onto under-passes (truly the sign of legendary rock status… I’m looking at you, Iron Maiden).  I have never seen anyone go nut-balls excited over a new U2 album.  Where are you people?  And, more importantly, WHY are you people?

Secondly, what is with all the silence?  I put up a comic and a blog post about Dino-Riders, and I don’t hear a peep from anyone.

Wake up and smell the saddled and packing tyrannosaurus, people.