Blog of Billy

After some extensive consultations with Nick, regarding how we both really really need to do well in classes this week, we opted not to go to UCO or to Wake. The good news is that this frees up my vacation time for next year (not to mention my airfare budget). Do I sense a Vegas trip shortly after June-teenth?

If only Perl really were a diner, I'd have somewhere to eat and work simultaneously.

That, by the way, was the subjunctive. You should be very good friends with this mood.

Grumpy Bear made a return appearance this weekend, as Halloween for me has historically been a time of partying mixed with a shot of drama. The party moved about between CB's apartment, his neighbor's place, and some big house on Lindsey I only mostly remember. The house was a lot of fun, as I got to see Blake, which I don't get to do nearly enough, and get some Grumpy dancing going on, which I do a bit more regularly. That night also constituted the second time someone has ever smeared peanut butter on my face for the sheer fun of it. As Brodt pointed out, though, the night did not end well for everyone, and now I've got a weird, dose-of-reality kind of feeling about the whole thing.

Kate the Great's birthday party was a hoot and a half. After Avery and I lost at beer pong and rode around for a couple of hours with some girl named Jennifer, we hit up the ole' Fox and Hound for some drunken darts on cork with metal tips, something I had never done before. My incredible darts skills, honed by tossing plastic at plastic while trying to avoid the hyper-competitive kicking of the Presto, were ultimately of less help than I had hoped. Avery and I (with Kate's sister's assistance on stability) then moved the party to Denny's. I enjoyed chatting with Leila and Patrick in that sailor-speak I tend to pick up at such times, and trying to convince Lindsey to come cuddle with me. The end of the evening found me alone, but in the hottest bed ever. Work the next morning has never been more reluctant.

I may just give up on it all, and take what few unsullied men remain to the Argentinean pampas to help Oxford capture small carnivores. I had never before heard of a grison.

...and hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans,
But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means...