Single Bill of Rights

1. When we walk into a bar and some nasty guy/girl comes over and starts hitting on me, I have the right to pull one of my friends to my side. I will then introduce them as my boy/girlfriend. They will be obligated to play along until said nasty person gives up and moves on.

2. Work comes before the boy/girlfriend. Friends come before the boy/girlfriend. I come before the boy/girlfriend. That means if you're the boy/girlfriend you should have your own life and be comfortable being somewhere outside my top five most important things.

3. My phone is a bigger part of my life than you will ever be. It is not only a source of entertainment, but it manages all aspects of my life. Do not feel like I'm being rude when I text/email while we talk. I'm listening as much as I would if the phone were not present.

4. Alone time is very important to maintain a health single self. When I want to be left alone that means leave me alone. If you're dating me: Go out with your friends. If you're my friend: We should be at the bar being alone together with several rounds of beer.

5. Don't read into it. Not everything I say means something. Sometimes people just talk and it's purely to hear their own voice. Just because I called you a "dried up twat," it doesn't mean I don't like you. Maybe I was joking, maybe I have GMS (gay man syndrome), or one of two million other reasons.

6. Don't make me repeat myself. Listen the first time and we can avoid all kinds of angry feelings. Who wants to say the same thing two, three, four times? No one. Open your ears if you want to participate.

7. We had coffee. That does not mean that you are going to be getting any kind of penis action. In fact, it's probably a safer bet to buy a bottle of lube and have it sitting at home on your bed side table waiting. I'm complicated but your hand is a sure thing.

8. Don't call me babe. I'm not a pig. Even if we were dating this would not be acceptable, it's even more of a turn off when we're just hanging out. I'd rather be called by the wrong name than to be called babe.

9. Don't play the text game. If I text you, text me back. I'll return the favor. If you wait more than two hours to reply then you can forget replying altogether.

10. Don't lie. If you're going to lie then you better be able to remember it. I remember bullshit and it's fun to call people out on it. It's more interesting to go on a coffee date with someone that isn't inflating their life with fantastic stories that never happened. It makes you a 10 on the douche nozzle scale.

Birthday. Vomit. iPhone.

It seems like a good idea to condense two nights of drunken mayhem into one blog of entertaining proportions.

Cinco de Mayo, or as I was calling it, Arizona Deportation Day was my mid-week drunken adventure. It was supposed to be casual fun with friends, nothing too over the top. Myself, Shew and the Animator were at our second bar for the evening when Shew decided we needed to do tequila shots. My first response was that I would throw up. I was overruled and the shots were poured.

About half of the tequila beast made it into my mouth before I spit it into the beer that sat on the table beside me. Shew then gave me a "pussy shot" to chase it. The mistake was that I chugged my beer to chase the second shot and now it was loaded with tequila. It was almost instantaneous. There was only time to turn my head as everything from dinner and the previous bar came rushing out of my mouth, splattering my left arm and the table next to me. When I told Shew and the Animator that I would throw up, I meant it. Shew passed me enough napkins to clean the mess I made up, but we had to leave before anyone noticed.

The second bar happened to be home to The Devil. If you don't remember him, that's the guy I dated about two years ago. He was great with games and messing with my head, I fed into it and became three kinds of crazy. We chatted a bit before my friends wanted to leave. The Devil suggested I return after getting food, but I couldn't have stayed up that late even if I wanted to. I did text him later that night with a question. I have to wonder why he has a renewed interest in me when he claims to want to be single. He tells me he's Devil Lite, but acts the way I remember all too well. Maybe that should be the sign that nothing has changed and I should stick to the lessons I've learned. During all of this I smelled like a homeless person covered in vomit.

Night number two was Friday and we were celebrating the Animator's birthday a little early. Shew suggested we get him a gift, so we bought him a self pleasuring device. It's this nifty little masturbating tool that has beads and jelly... the best gift anyone could ask for.

There were two interesting events that took place. The first being Paul the Pilot. Paul the Pilot is a guy I slept with six years ago after the last signing for my second novel. His description of me was: "You look confident." I'll take that as a good thing because when I responded with cocky he laughed and said no. It's crazy that I would see him because we last saw each other the morning after our short affair on the other side of the country. The chances of us running into each other seem slim to none, apparently there's no escaping the past.

The evening took a turn for the worst at the last bar when I realized that I had lost my phone. I left it in the back of a cab as I fumbled my way onto the street. This sent me into a panic. My phone is not only my social life, but it controls my entire work life and houses many important numbers. Shew and the Animator tried to keep me from having a melt down, but I was ready to throw myself from a window. I ended up back at Shew's place, sending him to bed while I stayed up all night in a frenzy. The Sprint website received a workout as I tried to find anything that could help me turn off the phone and get a new one.

Sprint was less than helpful the next day. I went in to get a replacement phone only to find out that I was going to have to call some insurance place and wait several days for a new one to be mailed out. Days without a phone was not an option. Long story short, Shew talked me into getting an iPhone and making the jump back the evil AT&T. I ditched them as soon as Cingular was killed off because I hate AT&T, but I'm more annoyed at Sprint's douche baggy-ness.

All the drunken fun has a happy ending because I again have a phone, I saw two different pieces of my past and survived, but most important: The weekend was a success because the Animator is satisfied.