Beer count: 9.
I just started playing soccer again, and boy did I suck. Newborn deer have better motor control than I did tonight. I’m always like this though. I start out really rusty, and as the season goes on, I get better. I will be better next week. I’ll share a bbm recap I had with a friend shortly after the game:”Dude I am getting old. Shit man, my first soccer game of the season b/c of an eye infection. I was like a fish out of water. I pulled the perfect Lupus from The Bad News Bears. I play defense, I intercepted the ball, saw no challengers around so I started moving forward. I was so rusty at ball handling that the first person to challenge me, waited for me to fuck up…it was that bad. Well, I managed to pass him, then another, and then another. In Forrest Gump fashion I carried the ball to the opposing teams goal. Now being defense minded I knew my position was wide open because now I am deep in the offensive zone. It’s funny b/c everyone was yelling “pass, pass!” But as I made it closer to the goal, they yelled “shoot, shoot!” Well I passed. But I didn’t pass to a teammate…Lupus man, Lupus.”
Now obviously, I went into and left, the game with a beer count of zero. I made it a point to drink a beer for every point my opponent scored. Luckily I lost count. Anyway, just when you think your attempts are being met with utter humiliation, shit, or whatever word gets you down, something better always seems to come along. I am now in my building and I see this very pretty, soft-spoken girl (no ring: she’s fair game. Her soft-spoken voice just screams “Talk to me God damnit!”). To gloat, I am brilliant when I’m drinking/drunk. Although, I wasn’t in a “Burn down Rome” kind of mood. This may have saved me though. I’ll be talking to her again, although what the hell is it with me and blondes?
I’m not attracted to blondes.