I’m a people watcher. Always have been. Maybe because I find it hard to talk to them. Maybe because I prefer my own little world. Whatever the reason, this bullshit party was the perfect reason to watch people. The drunk cheerleaders seemed bubbly, but from previous research, I give them an hour before a downward spiral ensued. To be honest, I hate parties, but this one seemed interesting. The theater nerds were having a poetry slam in the guest room; I could’ve gone there and listened to some new stuff. First I had to find the guest room in a stranger’s house, so I needn’t say I didn’t hear any new poetry. My friends, of course, flaked to go suck some football players’ dicks, so I’m stuck here in the corner watching. I suppose that’s fine.
Pardon my language in this addition to the series At Gab's Request