Thunk

That's a damn beautiful sound isn't it.

For those out of the loop, that's the sound of a pool ball hitting the bottom of the pocket. It is one of the most satisfying sounds I've ever come to know. And as I sit here at 3AM, after getting back from the pool hall at 2:15AM, and now playing 9 ball on some shitty flash site on the internet, I think it's safe to say I've developed quite an obsession with the game.

I said I was going to go to bed after that last rack... And now it's 3:18.
Mothertrucker.

I cannot afford another insomniac night. Today was a perfect example of why not. Last night I went to bed at, oh say, 5AM. Finally. Set my alarm for 7AM so I would have some time to hit the snooze button and take a shower before my 8AM. Of course I promptly awaken at 7:55. That's when the sudden 'oh shit' hits your brain. This is not unlike when you dry your face with the exact same portion of your towel you just dried off your nuts with. You notice it a split second later, and a small instant of terror pierces your mind. But then, what are you going to do? Not dry off? Exactly. So I rolled over, threw my alarm across the room, and skipped my second and third classes of the day. Baleedat.

Because I was devoid of anything remotely resembling motivation today.

Just lost another rack. What the shit. My online 9 ball rating is taking a dive that seems to be very parabolic in nature. I'm going to be a fucking zero before I quit for the night. Mark my words. Or Tom them, whomever you prefer.

I wish I had some matches to light my insanely scented candle.

Hold on a sec, I have to shoot.

Shit, I missed. Anyways, matches would be nice. God, this guy shoots as fast as old people fucking in molasses uphill. The matches would be nice to light this candle so my room wouldn't smell like fucking old donkey grundle anymore. After the apocalypse, what's left of CNN and the UN will trace the deadly disease back to my fucking hockey bag. People will be all, "DEAR GOD WHY DIDN'T YOU AIR IT OUT!?" And I'll be all, "I DID ASSHATS, BUT IT JUST MADE MY ENTIRE ROOM SMELL LIKE HORSESHIT."

And then they'd feel like assholes for getting all up in my kool-aid.
That deserves a picture. Picture power go...



Internet 9 Ball just crashed. Shitcock. I think that's a sign that it's time to stop.

It's 3:50AM.
I'm out.