Every time I go to the bathroom in one of my favourite local bars I look up at the plaster repair job above the urinal and can’t help but feel I’m being watched.
For the same reason I don’t make New Years resolutions I’ve never felt the urge to reflect on my blog at the end of the calendar year.
In both cases it seems so bizarrely arbitrary.
If an individual wishes to reflect on their life or make positive changes to it; kick ass. That’s to be commended. However, ANY TIME IS A GOOD TIME TO DO THIS. The 22nd of July, the 1st of August, the 14th of November or March the goddamn 26th are all equally opportune dates to decide to stop sucking so much.
So I was sitting at a bar, minding my own business, when suddenly a random guy appeared out of nowhere and took the seat immediately to my right. Which I found somewhat peculiar because I was sitting alone in a booth.
He was completely unremarkable in every way and, as I was completely immersed in my drinking/writing, I paid him no mind.
At least I tried to.
The correct answer is:
- 1 & 3/4 Australian pints.
- 1.76 UK pints.
- 2.11338 US liquid pints.
- 1.75975 Imperial pints.
Bonus question: How many pints in my bloodstream?
6. The answer is 6.
I have no idea why, but I dig when middle aged women call me “darl”.
The more you know.
I’ve been toying with the idea of starting an Only I Stand Here SnapchatTM account.
The pressure to deliver consistent and hilarious content would eventually end up driving me insane but imagine a world where you guys have access to the alcohol fueled Only I Stand Here brand of detached observational humour and legitimate societal confusion in real time!
Sounds awesome right?
Now also imagine spammy updates regarding my sporadic site posts and relentless SnapsTM of my cat!
Holy shit, *do I know what peeps want! Or do I know what peeps want?!
*I have no idea what people want.
My phone thinks that I think I’m Spider-Man…
While standing at the bar of one of the many bars I frequent, emanating from somewhere behind me, I overhear a female voice taking part in one half of a phone conversation.
“Ugh. I’m at some bar.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t want to be here, its all, like, dark. And full of weirdos.”
“Ugh. No. I have no idea when we’re leaving.”
“Oh Em Gee, it’s the worst, like, I don’t even know why they wanted to come here.”
“I know! We never go to cool places that I wanna go to.”
Being one of said weirdos in the, like, dark bar, I look over my shoulder to try and steal a glimpse of the dissatisfied orator of this asymmetrical diatribe.