yes i got my ass handed to me

you happy now? she got top 30 million. i got top, let's just say it weren't 30 million. dammit. i still suck. but it's not my fault. people kept rubbing up against me while i was trying to concentrate. do they do that to federer? in the middle of a big match, does some dude give him the butt brush? the loose left hand? the breeze by, with a little wobbly wobbly? no i don't know what that meant. the bottom line, is i lost big time. let's say double big time, to be more precise. but. again. it was other peoples' fault. also there was a bit of excitement and high anxiety at the start of the evening when the machine went all angry at us, for unclear reasons. and it decided to not give us our due ball. my co-enabler/ass-hander, who will be known as "the drink buyer (pusher is more like)," had to do a major tilt. i was just standing there moping and about to cry, like the fag i apparently am. you know, because it was over. forever? but she (and her clearly much more effective liver) snapped right into action. it was straight out of the 70s. it was awesome. we didn't know what to expect. bells and whistles going off. sirens. monkeys flying down from the rafters. headed straight for our eyeballs. surely. they do still have claws you know? but we waited. and waited. and waited. and eventually. it was back on. the sirens stopped. the bells and whistles. the embarrassment we were supposed to be feeling. the monkeys. it all went away suddenly. the ball came out. and then the beating resumed. my beating. my punishment. for sucking. big time.

total cost, including drinks, i'd say...$42
total shame, including drinks, i'd say...par

khanh 'll be pleased.

i would have to say the whole evening can pretty much be summed up like this: