... I'll be at the Roseland Ballroom. Concert starts at 8:00 PM. I hope to have a kick-ass time.
Matt says that maybe, just maybe, some girl will try to hook up with me there. Riiight. A soused Irish lass with a penchant for Jameson and short, geeky Asian guys.
I'm most likely not going to consume much alcohol. I won't be, to paraphrase a line from a Pogues song, a drunken fuck on a Friday night. I'll probably end up having just one beer. And should I have that beer, it'll be before the concert because I'm not paying nine dollars for one at the Ballroom.
One beer at the concert would cost me more than I make per hour at my current occupation, sad as that is.
I was informed that in a less economically strapped year, I would've been granted a small raise. Gee, without that extra six or so cents an hour, I won't be able to make a down payment on the Bugatti Veyron, the most expensive car in the world. Guess I'm going to have to settle for the Pagani Zonda C12 F, number two on the list. How humiliating.
Woe is Vince.
Harsh economic times we're living in. I do hope that I won't ever be standing in the subway singing "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" to passersby.
And the Song of the Day is "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?", the Tom Waits version:
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