Yesterday I met Dolly Parton and a girl who could kick my ass. Today I didn't work but went in anyway an hour and a half late. I watched Seinfield and drank beers with a friend I haven't seen in a while. There was good conversation. There were also cigarettes and Jimmy John's sandwiches involved.
I think that reality is relative. Maybe. I'm not sure I think that at all, actually. But I do think about it.
I also think I'm in no state to be writing a blog. These beers are sending me to bed. And so is Ryan Adams. And I'm beginning to agree with them.
Ya, bed sounds awesome. I'll pretend to be deep and in some sort of literary substance tomorrow.
Goodnight.
