I should be in Baltimore right now. Alas, I am not. What happened? Well, chillax and I'll tell you!
I was last minute planning to visit my newest of new friends, Melissa. She of the contingency of Browncoats from San Francisco that I met at Comic-Con. She was going to be in Baltimore for a couple of weeks. Of course, I waited until the last minute to start attempting to plan the jaunt to B'more. Bus is cheap. Long ass ride though. And, not really sure how close it is to where she is staying. And no car on her end. Hmmm....train is pricey and once again, how close? Plane....hahahahahahaha! Seriously? $500? I could fly to Namibia for cheaper. They musta been serving crack, giving lap dances and had the Cristal flowing on that flight. In retrospect, maybe I should have flown.
I reserved a car with my bud, Mike. He was gonna hang in D.C. with some friends. That or do a one man march on Washington. Or run for office. Or run from an officer while trying to do a one man march. Something like that.
Then, since I waited so long, we saw how much the car was gonna be. $5 gajillion dollars for a Pinto? That better have crack in it, lap dances and Cristal flowing! (Sensing a theme?) Plus, Mike and I realized just how far apart our destinations were and it was more than just me dropping him off. I'd have to take him to the airport, he'd catch a flight to Guam, take a boat back, hop off and swim to shore and then I'd pick him back up. Crazy, right?
And...I completely forgot about my friend Elyssa's going away party! She's leaving for New Zealand and will be gone a whole year. I still told people going to that party that I would be in Baltimore, so don't tell them. Oh crap. They might be reading this. STOP READING! I wanted my appearance at the party to be a surprise. Yes, I'm that narcissistic in believing that my appearance is a big deal. Have you met me?
Oh yeah. And I think I'm wanted in Baltimore. Some sort of bank robbery or something I was allegedly involved in. 15 times. Ya got nothin' on me, coppers!
Next time, I'll plan better. And by that, I mean I'll wait until the last minute again. Hey, love me for me. I ain't gonna change for you. Don't hate the playa, hate the game.
So, that's my sordid tale of my almost trip to B'more. Sorry about that, Mel! We'll do it up next time! Or just come out to the big bad city of New York.
Oh, what am I doing instead? Check the news channels later. You'll find out.
Bitches.
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