In the epic, time-honored battle of reality vs. Karsh, reality spanked my ass like a naughty child.

I really wanted to do the Blogathon this year, but I’ll be working mad ridiculous hours for the next week which won’t make updating every thirty minutes possible. What a shame – I’ve got a lot to write about too. Reality – 1, Karsh – 0.

Texas Ranger…I’m just not feeling him. He doesn’t call, he doesn’t ask about how I’m doing…only reason I called him was because it felt obligatory since he bought my PS2. And now? He just wants to jump my bones. Two to zip.

Getting kicked out of a gay bookstore for requesting an anti-gay book is so not cool. Get with the program.

I decided to go down to Five Points today to meet Taurean; right as I stepped out to cross Alabama St. to head to the Bank of America, guess who I should spy? The unholy trinity themselves – The Ex, The Why?, and Ex Of My Ex. All three were dressed up in blue GSU shirts showing around prospective students. And the kicker? They wanted to talk to me. Gag me with a fucking spoon, why don’t you. I’ve been safely ensconced in Buckhead now for the past few weeks with work and NNP and my first visit downtown yields this? Low blow, reality.

Personal ads…more shirts-pulled-over-heads, bandannas, braids, bad pictures, “no fats, no fems”, middle-finger-to-the-camera, “not about games or bullshit” drivel for the single man with no social life. Right for the jugular.

Friends are getting married.

Friends are moving away from town.

That cute guy in Publix and Barnes and Noble keeps looking but won’t say a word. I know I’ve seen him somewhere before….

Am I the only one who thinks Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy wasn’t that bad?

Peanut Butter Zigzag is fucking delicious. Try it, you’ll see.

I decide to call Dread Diva and he sounded great. His performances are going well, he’s got a new job that pays three times what his old one did, and he’s dating someone. He’s dating someone. Right into the buckle. That’s gotta hurt, Gene.

[tags]bad day[/tags]