47 Dicks

Ummmmm. On a whim or because my house had been taken over by ten year old guitar heros, I went for a drink last night. Probably too late for a Sunday night, but I'm not as fragile as I used to be. So, I had a few and talked to some girl for a while...woke up with a swastika drawn on the right side of my chest and a giant dick on the left. There was also something drawn on the back of my neck that I'm kinda hoping that no one else can see. Also, there is ink all over my sheets.

There is a ton of irony in a dick being drawn on me. For some reason, it feels like a symbol's revenge somehow. The picture above is from the Imperial Palace last week when I decided to draw dicks with a keno crayon until I got my food. This is not some weird Superbad thing either. Been drawing dicks for a while. I think it started with golf balls. I would just draw a dick on them instead of my initials.

So, I was at dinner last Friday with my sister and her boyfriend and her old roommate and their friend. A lot of wine was harmed in the formation of the fuzzy memory that is Friday, but I was talking to her friend who is retardedly smart, charming and has an advanced degree in Psychology. I asked her if a grown man drawing 47 dicks on a placemat would concern her and she just told me that it definitely raises a red flag. I'm not even sure she was kidding.

So, regardless. I got chiefed by a girl last night. Grown man chiefed. That's just sad. It will get better. This I know.