Ugh I so didnt meant to post that the other night.  Alcohol from shotty Irish pubs filled with books is always a no no.  I so want my life to be a black out but I miss my friends and I dont think it is so good to close off from the people that I know and miss.  Im so different from who I used to be but Im still growing and eating my vegtables everyday.  I should either post more on here or not post at all, spot posting gives and incomplete image of my life right now. ha.  Damn you lj.

She had too much to drink tonight.  Scott, the loud but fun New Yorker, yells for another round on his tab.  It has to be the 3rd time of the night he has bought us drinks.  The two randoms at the table are treated as well to new round and are quick to befriend the envoy of American freebies.  Scott talks loudly about the hash we had the other night and how metaphyisics can somehow make you a millionaire.  No one understands but it is entertaining, especially when Scott throws in his signature "whoo" in between sentences.  The night it young but alcohol can age anything.  Nat starts biting my ear.  I feel uncomfortable.  I flee as Scott gets up for a cigarette.  I curiously follow him outside to see what new friends he can make in 15 seconds or less.  Im amazed that immediately he becomes the center of attention of the smokers outside.  Stories about New York, Osama Bin Ladien, and how to become a trillionare overnight by getting off of your grandmothers couch (you puss) seem to captivate this young British audience.  Scott immediately yells for a round of drinks for all of his new friends and hands a random his wallet filled with cash.  "1, 3, 8, no 10 rounds! fill up a tray!  empty that wallet damnit!" he yells to his new trusted friend.  Scott is an awesome guy.  30 something, been in the navy, has two BS degrees, worked for Morgan Stanley for the past few years in London, you would imagine someone more responsible.  In reality you wouldnt be able to tell his drunken self apart from a fraternity president who has too much money.  Note to self:  he will drink you under the table.  Something doesnt seem right about Scott's new friend.  I follow him into the bar to watch him pay for the drinks.  He orders what the Dr. ordered, rounds that fill a tray.  Without hesitation, he slips 40 pounds into his own pocket and pays for two randoms' drinks at the bar front.  He leaves them with the phrase "Some American gave me his wallet and wanted rounds,...fucking right, right?".  Fucking right, you random.  I dont say anything to Scott, it is his mistake to bear, nor do I say anything to our new friend who got the rounds.  I didnt follow him to confront him if he broke the trust, I just wanted to note it for personal purposes.  The new round of drinks it too much for Nat, its time for her to go but no one wants to walk her home because they dont want to leave.  I decide to walk her home because Im over this pub.  She can barely walk but she is being a bitch.  "I dont need you, I can do it myself" she incoherently mutters as she slams into a shop window and then a road post.  Fuck this, where are my skates.  I coach her home but I realize that it is easier if I just walk behind her so that it is not apparent that I am "looking out for her".  A long 5 blocks later we are back at the flat.  She stumbles in the door and I have to catch her.  I lay her in her bed.  She becomes aggressive in a sexual nature.  It just doesnt feel right to me in any way, regardless of whether or not its been ages for me.  She needs water to counter the effects of the alcohol; I get her some.  I return to find her passed out in her underwear and bra half off.  I fix the things that need to be fixed and tuck her in hoping she doesnt wake up.  She does.  Im a weird guy, I know this.  I dont feel it.  I feel asexual, I have for a long time now.  I have a completely neutral view of the world.  I dont want to be in this situation; I would rather love someone and be in this situation than barely know them.  I need to get out.  Deep tissue massages are good for two things in this world:  1)  un-tensing chronic muscle knots and 2) putting drunk people to sleep.  She falls asleep and I leave to go to my room and play guitar.  Its not that I care.  The the fact that I dont which is why I come off as the "nice guy" to almost everyone I meet.  There are parts of people (including myself) that are attractive when there is that "fuck it, live each day like its your last, ill try anything once, rock 'n' roll" but I dont open that part up unless I have a basis with someone that includes "this is why I care about you" so that the "fuck it" attitude can have something more solid and reassuring to fall back on.  Im weird like that but it is just me.  Im just looking for something more, a more deeper connection.  I was going to delete my LJ because i never write anything of substance here anymore for obvious reasons; one being that Im still learing about all things life oriented and I find it un-fullfilling to post them here but....for the moment, fuck it.  Im in Britian bitches.

Peace to my homies

My friend Mike just posted these up on Youtube.  I havent been able to find my VHS tape that we made way back then of it so I was delighted to find that he still had the edits on his computer.  I love seeing old footage!  (circa 2000)