Hanging at AJ’s. Birthday party night. I contributed a can of whoop ass (Jones Soda, of course), two twelve-packs of DP, and pencils for both the birthday boys. AJ is messing with a music CD in the Playstation; John suggests making an artful arrangement of it, taping it, and selling it to the druggies. Enjoyable.
Been a grouch lately. PMS. I hate the shit.