Monday night bars

Down at the dive bar
Down at the dive bar
A round of beers
A pack of smokes leaning against the wall

Confessions of lust,
A need to get laid
Stare at my tits, why don’t you?
Awkward feelings breed sarcasm
For the one girl in the dive.

Did you fuck him?
Of course I did. It’s your turn
To buy the beer

Nice going, but you can’t be
Exactly like us.

Why would I want to
be like
you?

All women do,
Nietzsche said so.

That’s out of context.

Ok back to my life: Chelsea and I went to this bar last night and spent the whole night hanging out with these old british people who were totally smashed, dancing, and singing way off tune. Apparently I joined a band called Burning Ice. This chica from Tennessee wants to jam with me now, she's lived here for the last five years going to law school only to quite and become a teacher. I told her to fuck law school and be a rock star. She's hilarious. We also met this really cute 30 yr old from Worschester (spelling?), Britain. He was really cool as well and we just got smashed and Chelsea and I swooned at his beauty. We also befriended the bartender, this Swedish girl named Frida who is really cool and gorgeous, despite the name. Over all the night was a success and really odd. The true alcoholics come out on Mondays, and who knew they'd be British! Chelsea and I are planning on giving Frida a ring on Wednesday and do it all over again, except she was working and we were smashed. Good times Chels... sorry for being ridiculous and thanks for letting my drunk ass pass out at your flat. I could not have made it back to Eixample from Born... too fucking far.

On another note... the poem above is inspired by my guy friends who insist that Nietzche is god, but god is dead! Oh I'm so clever jajaja. Ok bad joke, bad joke... apologies.