Fights & Funerals

Woke up at 2pm. Heard that one of my close friends had died; drank a bloody mary and headed to the funeral. Got lost. Found a cheep sushi place (gotta remember the name of it), kept walking. The father of the recently deceased blamed it on my other friend, her boyfriend... in the middle of the service... he said he had "email transcripts," whatever that means. I threw up a little in my mouth; got over it. After the recently blamed left, I followed. Five minutes later 3/4ths of the attendance had gone out to console the boyfriend of the girl who died in a 'Shakespearian' fashion.

Soon after, I found I wasn't able to write any more funeral jokes, funerals are too serious, unfortunatly; I headed to a friends house three blocks away - funeral after party!

Couldn't stop thinking about an idiot administration member of the college we all attend paying her trite and artificial condolences to a girl she never knew.

Got back home. Drank. Slept. Tired and wrung out. Woken up by my roommate and our close friend Sarah; she informed us that that a party was on the horizon; some sort of Secret Bingo Party. It wasn't that much of a secret, apparently.

Four hours later, after a failed cocktail party, the discussion shifted from the mundane to an argument about NYC and finding unique things to do. My friend cried over it for a minute, my other friend yelled about it for a minute; I opened up chatroulette, focused the computer's camera on the situation, and everyones head's turn to see a mixture of penises  and 14-year-old girls staring in confusion at a defunct NYC cocktail party at 2:30 AM.

Grumble. I think I'm going to New Jerzy tomorrow; I need a change of scenery.