Dog Keychains and the People Who Buy Them

-Well here I am again with another day under my belt and another day drained from my biological clock of death. Doom.

-Its areation season now and its none too soon. I'm hurting for money and it'll be nice getting a hit in the pocketbook. Tomorrow Jordan and I are going to print out fliers and start canvasing the neighbors. My dad bought a second aerator last season as kind of an expensive toy and I figured I could get Jordan to get some use out of it and maybe provide me a little company while I rake in the cash. I'm needing it bad too. I've been sort of prostituting myself, if you will, for gas money and I guess I've learned easy money is more fun than money I've got to work really hard for. My moms had me running around like a flustered chicken doing the menial chores around the house as payment for a quater tanks worth of gas. This has to stop!

-Its late and I'm still buzzing because I didn't think I'd be home so soon and I have some energy to burn. It was poker night at Brandon's and I was having a great time playing cards, pool, and otherwise just chillin, when his sister walks in with her dog acting awfully friendly. After trying to keep the poker game alive under the weight of her endless intoxicated babbling things changed momentum when out comes what musta been a keg of vodka out of her duffel bag. Cards came to a hault and and things started tailspinning as they usually do when booze is brought out. After trying to salvage the night at the pool table, I eventually threw in the towel and headed home, a little frustrated but I guess its all good in the end. I still had a good time. Its just so hard to be yourself when everyone's using alcohol to change who they are. I'm not a fan.