Soooooooooooo. I trekked across a couple of mountain ranges last week and found myself in the land of Those Who Fuck Sheep (AKA: Montana). I am not really sure *why* I went...mostly it was that Washington was kind of bumming me the fuck out, and I wanted to burn some brain cells by drinking with total strangers in a completely unfamiliar clime.
Dude..... Totally worked.
Rocked a decent amount; nothing out of hand. Well, okay, maybe I was a bit rowdy that one time...but we are not going to discuss that right now.
Except now I am back home, and can't seem to get motivated to work or go to school or anything productive. It's not that I dislike that sort of thing, I just know I could be somewhere else, not dealing with idiots...idiots that I know. Familiar idiots are the worst, because you have that sort of rage that builds up with each encounter you have with them, which just serves to further irritate. LAME. I would rather be around foreign fucktards, if I have to deal with them at all.
...Maybe I should just hide in the mountains while I still can...