i dont want to work, i just want to bang on my drum all day

last night, i got my memo #2 back. i was pleased with the result. now, i tried to convince someone to hang out with me, but they were far too lame. now i am forced to blame them for my hangover today that is inevitably on its way. anyway, they sucked, so i commenced celebrating a good grade. jack, grube, mchottie, and myself went to a skanky dive bar. midtown. i've been there before. actually, a few times with sam. definitely an after hours joint. stays open till 5am. thank god we left at 2. 9-2 at the bar makes 8am at work difficult. i walk in this morning, and sandy, a secretary here, asks if im ok, i say yes why? and she says my eyes are really bloodshot. luckily, i put in my contacts this morning, so that is my excuse. i have no excuse for why my jeans smell like a cigarette. i can smell them while im sitting here. i think she is on to me that i am still drunk. i would have gone to jail if i'd been pulled over on the way to work. im sobering up now, and this dr pepper and excedrin are the last line of defense between me and a hangover. anyway, so we bullshit for a long time and have too many beers and all of a sudden its 2am, and there is the band yellowcard. they played a show next door at juanitas. too bad they are gay, and suck. might have been worth an autograph if that werent the case.