Last night proved entertaining ...
I went out drinking with some friends. Just beer. I have toned down a lot over the past week, being broke makes you drink less and conserve for when you have more disposable cash flow. So I went out with friends for the big "Congratulations" night. It was fun. Met some more women, very attractive, not exactly my cup of tea since most had a chip on their shoulder, so I sent my buddy in to take care of it.
He was having a great time and since he just got dumped I thought why not help him out. He got another number, which I was proud to say, was my fucking idea. Random chica sitting by herself, away from the herd, obviously not interested in her two other friends being gangfucked by a quad of dudes.
I find myself very bitter about how everything has transpired. Red was going to try and show up, she always says "Maybe" and then doesn't show up. I won a bet with her that she would always find a reason not to go, belying the fact that she was just like every other woman out there, something she denies. At about 2 AM I sent her a text that went something like, "I don't have to be House to diagnose you with 'Type A Womanhood'. It is good to know that my genius has called your very actions to a tee. We can only pray for a cure, but somehow I don't think one will be coming soon. LOL Have a good night!"
Luckily she has a sense of humor. She claims that she can't get angry at me, which is just ignorance showing itself. Frankly, I am not in the mood for chasing her, especially when she is dating some prick she doesn't even like or connect with besides sexually. He is a placeholder and the poor fucker knows it. Either way, I am thinking it is time for me to expand my horizons and look for my next Final 5.
I am having fun at the bar and a few new prospects, single prospects, have risen up to the forefront.
It would seem that when you kill off (from your mind) one of these twits, two more rise up to take their place. Like weeds, they continue to swarm and infest all the good parts of life.
Time to start some drama and get this shindig started. I do love people watching and then acting on it.
It would seem that the brunette/redhead saga has ended.
Final analysis indicates it was just a colossal waste of time, but one I was happy to make otherwise I would be a very bored, very lonely man. Instead I am just lonely.

I think I would make a great pope.
Gatekeepers