Land of Sweets and Joy, And Joyness.

I mentioned I went hiking up at Mount Si this last Saturday, but I forgot to mention that I ran into someone there that I had met at my climbing gym. Yeah, some guy that I’ve met like oh 4-5 times, each time forgetting his name. I saw him at Si and I said, “Oh hi, Richard…um…Art…um…I forgot your name but you climb at Vertical World.” The guy looked at me and said, “Oh hi, Champagne.” I’m such an asshole. I saw him at the gym on Wednesday again and asked my buddy, William, what his name was…Peter. I wasn’t even close. I suck. Peter was cool, he climbed with us a bit and gave me some pointers, like “You suck at climbing, please for god’s sake stop!”   (I made that up, Peter is too nice to say that.)  I apologized profusely for forgetting his name over and over because I like reminding people that I not only think so little of them that I don’t care to remember their names, but…hell, I enjoy kicking them in the balls again for it. Then at the end of the night William said, “Let’s go, but I have to say bye to Donna,”…I mentioned he never introduced us. He insisted he did plenty of times. I said, “Never! I would remember that name.” I see her…yeah, I’ve met her plenty of times. I suck with names.

I was still reeling with my shame when I had dinner that night with my buddy Charlie. I related the story of my woes, saying, “Oh man, don’t you hate it when you forget the guy’s name over and over and it makes you feel like more of an asshole when they remember yours?” He shook his head and tells me he never forgets a name because his grandfather said it’s important to always remember people’s names…so he does. He goes on to tell me how it’s such a simple thing to remember but it’s so important…blah blah… I smacked him and told him it’s okay to nod and just agree with whatever I say. He argued with me on the merits on remembering names like I don’t get that it’s a good idea. God, why do I keep such asshole friends? Oh yeah, it’s because I’m a certifiable asshole myself. Fuck everyone and me. This morning, I sent him the Charlie and Candy Mountain link that I’m sure everyone has seen about five hundred times more than they should ever have to, by now because…payback is a bitch. He is currently haunted by crazy unicorns calling his name. He thought the video was funny, but I consider the video a fair warning of what could happen to him if he pissed me off, or if the stars were misaligned, or if I didn’t like the way he parted his hair.

I went out with my sister, her man, and her newly engaged friends for dinner tonight. Dear god…next time I decide to hang out with a couple and their newly engaged friends, just shoot me in the head. The only thing I can imagine as being worse is being the only carnivore in a vegan party where everyone tells you meat is murder…because Jesus Holy Christ everyone else has seen the light and it’s not shining on my ass. Wheeee! No, in all honesty, these friends of my sister, I’ve known since grade school, I’m happy they’re finally getting married…and I’m glad they made it. I just hope that people realize the long painful stretch that they made sacrifices for isn’t for everyone. They have their grimy dirt and filth that would tarnish many relationships over but they’ve decided to work things out…and somehow with those two, it simply works. I admire their tenacity and stubbornness. The problem with people that are moving to different pastures is that they want friends to move in with them. Her gal friend asked me why I’m still single and if I have problems and how long has it been and if I needed help with meeting some good single guys. Really just kill me now. Even my sister keeps asshole friends. Seriously fuck everyone. Oh but they had this amazing bread pudding at Marjorie. If you ever go to that place, have their bread pudding for dessert. Um…and meat is murder, stop eating meat you sicko. God that argument is so lame, I just might start eating meat if someone says that to me.

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