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So, it's Thursday morning, and I've worked 49 hours this week.

I have nufthink, nufthink! --- to post.

Yet to keep up the pretense of This Little Blog O' Mine being a daily cattle prod to my bovine writerly self, I really ought to post.

Let's see...well, as I was telling my long-distance friend, dodong, I went to a lame party Saturday.

But I couldn't pinpoint why it was lame. You'd think it would have been okay, given a basic description: It was in the building across the courtyard from Eclaire. Two levels, liquor in the kitchen up top and a keg in the basement. There was a dj; the dj was, surprisingly, actually pretty good, the place was packed with an interesting mix of people, a bunch of whom I knew.

That may have been the core of the problem; in addition to the usual bunch of billyburg hipsters there was a sprinkling of frat boys and chipsters and at least one mini-posse of dudes with white-boy dreds. I discovered I am not merely aesthetically but physically repulsed by white-boy dreads; I was trying to squeeze down the staircase to the bottom floor of the duplex and one of them was standing by the knoll and I actually remember thinking,
"Must...not...touch...dreds..." Bleeuugh. Shiver.

Oh, and I saw a kegstand. I don't think I've ever actually seen a kegstand, what with LPU's floor and a half of Greek life. So, there's that. There was also the little circle of frat boys who elected to stand near us, eyeing the room nervously, punching each other in the shoulder, and filling up lapses in the coversation with, "Aaaawww, skriit skriit skriit skriit," and "I'm gonna get crunk tonight, man."

Thinking about it, and being willing to sound like a hippie, I think there was just a bad vibes interaction going on with that particular mix of people --- the frat kids making the hipsters more pretentious and the trustafarian chicks making the frat boys more obnoxious, the film geeks and the stoners multiplying each other's sulleness. And the twatball who brought a German fucking shepard to the party and let it run around the back yard barking at people wan't helping any. I mean, you got a golden retriever running around and sniffing everybody with a big drooly grin, you're all "Awwwww." Or at the worst, slightly annoyed. A German shepard darting back and forth as if pacing a cage, stopping every occassionally in order to stand in front of you and bark, every muscle taut, and you start to think, "If he lunges at me, I'll head fake left and go for his eye with my cigarette."

So, that was my weekend.

And you?