Alcohol: A Solution

Last night at The Pit (dingy, underlit, can-smoke-inside, after hours kind of bar) one of my coworkers said "I have something called a drinking problem." I responded in kind "It's more of a drinking solution."

Well maybe it's both.

Obviously, I did not update my blog. Go figure. Real life happened. And stuff. There was probably alcohol involved. Not gonna lie. Will do it soon. Soon being anywhere from tomorrow until three/six months from now. Eventually....we'll leave it at that.

In the meantime, I want to talk about my "connects". And dumb boys. I know, I know, how do these relate? Well....sit back, take a swig of rum, at let me tell you the story.

There's this new boy. And as always, my mouth will ruin it. NOT IN THAT WAY GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER. My issue is I work with this boy, and I canNOT help but have mouth diarrhea constantly about him and how much I would love to.........well, ya know (you may now insert your mind back into the gutter) while I'm AT WORK. And he's there too. Unclassy, unprofessional, and I'm a little disturbed by myself. So I have made a pact to stop talking about him. Period. Done. Fin. At work. At the top of my lungs.

Anyway.

This boy has a tattoo. And we hung out the other night and ended up talking about tattoos. Luckily, my bfffffffffxinfinity works at a tattoo shop! Which mean I have a connection that he can make use of. That we can make use of together actually, which makes my end goal all the more attainable.

So now this boy thinks I have a lot of connections. He brings up a good point. I know a lot of people, I meet a lot of people, people like doing things for me and I like hooking people up. So maybe I have a few connections. Showcased in the fact that I'm getting a brand new MacBook Pro for $875 instead of $1200. Which is AWESOME. If I can figure out how to work it.

My solution to the boy problem is alcohol. On Sunday, I shall get a lil tipsy, go to roller derby, hang out with all of my awesome friends, impress him with my awesome friends and maybe awesome outfit, and then drunkenly make out a lil. Maybe. If I can grow some imaginary balls.

Can some of my "connects" help me out with that? Doubt it.

My real plan: to do nothing. I have no idea. And I hate thinking about boys. Ima ride the wave and see what happens. If anything does, I have no doubt a little liquid courage will help me out a lot. Otherwise, I'm resting on my laurels. And my connections. Thanks guys.