justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A healthy dose of egotism to wash down all that \"real life\" bullshit BGM: "Surrender" - Cheap Trick A snap, almost audible. Eye contact, like a bag of bricks. "would you like some company?" she asks, trying her best to sound seductive. "Love some," I reply, filling myself with a steely resolve not to stare at her jubblies. "I just don't want to pay for it." She scoffs, rolls her eyes, and departs. I'm a prick, I know. half the things I say are like that comment, witty to some extent perhaps, but wiseassed and completely unnecessary. But hey. The world needs people to sneer at. And that's where I come in, folks, because frankly, what other chance was she going to have that night to feel like less of a waste of carbon than someone else. Alright alright, I'm being judgemental and presumptuous. But damnit, I'm a white male and she's a lady of negotiable virtue, I have to judge her. It's out of my hands. All this is to say, welcome to Justnick's little corner of Montreal. Grand Prix weekend, and the party is inescapable. Crescent street is closed off from traffic, the F1 ladies are all over the place, and the american girls come pre-liquored, in convinient little three-packs. Like I said, inescapable. Inescapable, of course, unless you're going to your cousin's wedding in the Empire of Bush. [Ed: Which is really a lot less interesting than it sounds] Now, don't get me wrong, I like a wedding as much as the next guy, maybe even a little more. But Why, oh why, did it have to land on the weekend of the mini skirt? Oh well. I'll have to dance with twice as many pseudo-relatives as usual. One of you lady readers should come dance with me, I'm missing out on the big party. And no, mom, you don't count. Thanks for the thought, though. Excelsior. 9:12 p.m. - 2004-06-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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