Monday, June 22, 2009
The weekend actually got off to a pretty good start. Bought the new Friday the 13th on Friday night. Saturday, got up early, skipped the step-son's baseball game and took Capone down to the Pride Parade downtown. The parade was short and sweet, like usual. I was standing in front of a hotel watching the parade, and some meat-heads in town for the College world series kept yelling "FAGGOTS!" from their hotel room windows though the whole thing. That stuff really irritates the hell out of me, even if it's just a word from the mouths of some fucking retarded coward. Nonetheless, when the inevitable bible thumping protestors walked right by me carrying their "I'm Going to Hell for Smoking Pole" signs, I kinda lost it on them. All I did was point, stare daggers into the eyes of what appeared to be the circus ringleader and shouted "SHAME ON YOU!" over and over again until they got tired of telling me I was damned for eternity unless I take the dick out of my ass and walked on to badger some other homos. Pride as usual in the big O. At least my dog got a new frisbee.
Attempted to go out on Saturday night. Got all the way down to the riverfront, paid the money to get in, bought $20 bucks in drink tickets, and all of a sudden my boyfriend couldnt even stand up anymore. It appears that he needed to take God knows how many shots at home whilst I was in the shower getting ready. He's socially retarded, so in order to be around people, he thinks he needs to be shitfaced. So after holding him up guiding him, we made it all the way to the parking lot, where he just couldn't walk anymore. I left him on an island to go get the car. When I got back people where surrounding him, checking to see if he was breathing while sprawled out on his back passed out. Fucking embarassing.
I broke up with him yesterday.