In the still of the night, I heard a crappy band.

Oh darn, I have a pretty good story to tell of, but I just don't have the ambition to write it all out. I will stick with stating that hormone and alcohol (along with other shit I am sure) fueled teenagers are some of the most stupid folks I know. No one else is so quick to start trouble and then to run away from it.

I forgot to tell the funny story from the fights last Friday. Drunken Mike Kasten apparently decided to confront me for calling Clayton Kolb a pussy on Tom's blog a few months back. He didn't seem to get that it was written in jest and that I actually like the kid. Of course, he did get kicked out of the event a few minutes after that, so I don't think he was capable of understanding much. So, Kasten, if you read this, you are a whiny drunk and I will gladly take you on in the ring. Also, ha, you got thrown out and I am going to make fun of you for that next time you are at a party.
Late Update: I decided to check what it was that I actually called Kolb. Turns out all I said was that he likes to get his salad tossed with syrup. What is so bad about that?

Next order of business. I don't seem to be sleeping enough lately.

Also, this country is going to become quite divided with this whole Supreme Court thing (as if we aren't already) and this might just be the prime time for the Dems to move forward again. Yay for them. I hope they figure it out.

Alright, I am going to go read something because I am nerdy and I like that sort of thing.

Peace.