Check out this comic from Toothpaste for Dinner.
So, I went out last night. It was terrible. Smoking in bars is still allowed in the stupid Mat-Su Valley, home of a bunch of stupid motherfucking rednecks. Yesterday, I saw a mud-coated truck that had the words "No bama" and "Vote McCain or die" spray painted on the tailgate and door. Of course, the truck was piloted by some mouth-breathing, fuck-tard, white kid who definitely had no idea about how government even works, much less an informed opinion about theories of governance. What a fucking douche. And to think we live in a society that actually permits this idiot a voice in how business is conducted. Un-fucking-believable.
Anyway, I went out and was promptly reminded of why I like drinking alone, in my house, the fuck away from a bunch of leathered-up Harley riders, bitches singing karaoke, and motherfuckers dressing like they just got off the cattle drive. Felicia and I were talking about how there is a vast, untapped research potential for observing human mating behavior that exists in bars all across the country. I mean, I could perpetually produce articles detailing how stupidly people behave if I could just have some audio/video feed from local bars.
Yeah, I did the whole bar, drink, talk with strangers (about sports of all things), went somewhere else, met up with some peeps, hugged a bunch of people, and yes, danced. I fucking danced, for fuck's sake. Here I am parading around like I'm some kind of adult, but stick me in the right situation and I'll be goddammed if I don't end up doing some stupid shit like dancing. Fuck, I was wasted.
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