Come one, come all to a pity party honoring the DooDoo.

M had a birthday party. She was lit. She was having a blast. She vomited in the bathroom. She passed out.

Man, have I been there plenty o' times! I feel bad that she got sick but there was no stopping her tonight. I arrived at the bar where she was having her get-together pretty late in the evening, so I did not choose to contribute to her alcohol intake. Believe me, I was the only one there who didn't. It's just no fun when the eveinig goes sour, ya know?

I found out that M is for sure dating someone else at present time. I therefore invite you, the reader, to my aforementioned pity party. There were several guys there at the bar that were not happy to hear the news either. She's one of those girls who are able to draw guys in despite the fact that she is not one of those blond-headed-bimbo-sluts that populate this great city of Tallahassee.

Being out at the bar surrounded by couples and soon-to-be couples was depressing. I don't know how to meet women at bars nor do I really understand the appeal. Yeah, you might get some ass if you are lucky, but it seems so fake and is too much work anyway. Everyone out there has an agenda---GET LAID! I just want to meet someone nice and whom I have a kinship and connection with. I did, however, have the opportunity to meet some more of my fellow music majors whom I had only up to this point smiled at in passing. There is usually some good that goes along side bad things. Every chick in our party was dating one of the guys who were there! That is no way to have a party! We single guys were shit out of luck tonight.

Every girl I am interested in has a boyfriend. Bad luck have I, says my trusty parrot Bobo who sits atop my right shoulder. Well, at least this emotional pain I am enduring will fuel my creative abilities tomorrow during the Wind Orchestra concert I am a part of. I am playing a piece of music that features our graduate saxophone quartet and I need all the emotions I have available to pull this one off!

Well, I guess that's all for now. My bladder is saturated with Blue Moon hefeweisen and it's telling me to go pee. After that it's off to bed and the land of nod. Oh, and uh, send any pity party gifts care of DooDooDoo70s: 69 W. Loser Street, Mopeville, FL 12345.

("1,2,3,4,5?! My God, that's the same combination I have on my luggage!")