on the way out
2004-04-08, 7:30 p.m.

i'm about to have to go see a show with an artist performing whom i haven't seen since his manager, also an artist, played in town. after that show, there was much merriment (read: drinking) and i entered into the territory that people In Recovery like to call "the black-out." apparently i accompanied the band and their entourage to a strip club. and lost and found my shoes in the bathroom. i know. why indeed. anyhow, tonight i'll be not imbibing. help me practice, okay.

ok, you're the bartender. you say:

"what'll ya have?"

and i say:

"diet coke please"

there. thanks, i'm ready now.

i'm taking one of my best friends to dinner for his birthday first though. i won't give him a birthday shout-out here though as he doesn't understand why anyone would ever read an on-line diary. "why would i read your diary? here you are."

and here i go as i'm already late.