So first let’s begin with: I did something I wasn’t supposed to. I texted he-who-shall-not-be-named and while that can be innocent enough, the text message I sent wasn’t. I texted him, “Jimjammers (a name I called him while we were dating), I miss talking to you on the phone :(“ Now, first let me justify myself. For starters I don’t want to be with him at the moment. I’m tired of his indecisive crap and ain’t nobody got time for that. The second thing is, I have an irrational fear of people getting bored of me or forgetting about me. So part of me doesn’t want Jimmy to forget I still care about him, I guess. We also talked randomly all week, on the book of Faces, and it made me miss him as my friend. We used to talk on the phone once a week for about four hours and it’s hard not having him to do that with.
On to more fun things. It is Ultra weekend. For those of you that don’t know what Ultra is, it’s an electronic music festival where the best DJs of the world get together and have a three day concert in Miami, FL. It’s glorious. I went last year with a few of my guy friends and it was hands down one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. We didn’t get to go this year because of poor planning; however, we won’t be making that mistake next year. Anywho, I’ve been watching the live feed over the interwebs and it is jizz in your pants worthy. So far I’ve loved Nicky Romero, Hardwell, Fatboy Slim, Knife Party, Kaskade, and Laid Back Luke’s set and I’m pretty sure Calvin Harris, Avicii, and Swedish House Mafia are on today. I’m gonna get my molly and rum and coke ready as I lay in bed naked playing Pokemon and enjoying the live feed.
This weekend is also St. Patty’s Day weekend. So, I felt bad not going out again this weekend (I was sick last weekend) so I went out Saturday night. I, of course, being my stupid self, forgot it was St. Patty’s Day and didn’t wear green. Luckily, I didn’t get pinched by anybody; however, some girl dressed like a leprechaun in an inappropriately short dress tried dancing with me and lifted her skirt up while we were dancing and I felt her underwear and I was very upset…Then this random old dude comes up to me and says, “Do you know Dave?” I stare at him blankly thinking, “You’re like 50, I highly doubt we know the same people.” He sees my face and responds, “Dave the Dwarf.” I say, “No.” and try to turn around but he starts saying, “He’s been in movies and commercials. He’s a famous dwarf.” I turn around saying no because he annoyed me and I didn’t care. I’ve had people my entire life tell me to be friends with someone because: they’re also short or they’re in a wheelchair as well or they have OI too. And I always say, “No.” I don’t see the need to make friends with someone under similar circumstances because I highly doubt we have anything in common. Anywho, on to more recap of my night. I was dancing with some guys I know and this random 6’3 dude comes and towers over me and stares down at me, smiling. I stare at him and can’t help but laugh at his smile and say, “What?” He doesn’t respond and just keeps staring at me. So I get a little weirded out and turn away. He then repositions himself so he’s standing in front of me again and looking down at me. He then says, “You know me.” amongst other things but I couldn’t hear them all because he refused to bend down and the music was loud. He just keeps mouthing ‘you know me’ and I say I don’t remember. He then gets angry and says to his friends, “This dude knows me but won’t say so.” Now, for starters lets be real here. I am pretty easy to remember. Be it the fact, that I’m half the size of a normal guy, be it the fact I’m sporting a rad purple wheelchair, or be it the fact that I’m freaking amazing; however, most people I meet aren’t. So I apologize if I can’t remember every damn person that enters my life. I probably knew this guy from high school and that was about 6 years ago. My bad. Anyways, so I have this habit of drunkenly talking to people on my way home from the bar. I met this random band who was apparently performing at one of the other local bars. I don’t remember much of that conversation except they claimed to play ‘all kinds of music’ and I said, “I highly doubt that.” And then they said they did covers of rock bands and country music and I said, “My point stands.” and I walked away. I then met this rather fat and jolly fellow who was speaking in an English accent. We apparently met a few weeks ago and he told me he was a skier and just came back from a competition in Colorado. I also learned they were speaking in an English accent because their music fraternity, I tried not to start laughing, is performing a song soon and they needed an accent for it. We then exchanged phone numbers and he wishes to hang out with me. Huzzah to making friends.
littlenicky125 