I'm about as good at managing time as a crack head with a dime bag

I had intended to do some serious work last night, but instead, I was sucked into two monster games of chess. I was quite pleased with my play because the guy I play against here is quite decent (I don't say excellent because he's probably about where I was 10 years ago - better than most, but not in the echelon of elite). The first game was a clear and utter domination on my part. It resembled Germany's acquisition of the Sudenland. Very satisfying. The second game, though, should have also been a clear win for me except that it got exceedingly complicated and at some point fatigue (nobbery) set in and I made a series of embarrassingly bad moves and still barely lost. It was much like Hitler's march to Moscow - one giant blunder. I'm sure we'll have more rematches. They're quite enjoyable.

Ok, now that I've clearly established myself as a total dork (Head Nob), I'll continue with the rest of the story. [By the way, the Real Deal, in a further attempt to establish her Real Dealness, thinks that it's very cool that I play chess.] Anyway, I went over to my neighbors and gave them the articles I printed out about the Irish peace process and proceeded to get in a very heated argument about the whole thing. Well, I was more partial observer, sometimes participant, than anything, but they really got into it. By the time everything settled down, it was almost 3 am, which me, not wearing a watch, didn't realize. I did know it was time to go to sleep, so I went to bed. Getting up at 8 was painful and I spent most of the day feeling totally cracked out, which isn't altogther painful (unless you're hungover, which I was not).

Work was a total waste of time, or would have been, except that I took a 2 hour lunch, worked for 2 hours, and spent 4 hours working on my paper. Tommorrow is a half-day which I'm quite excited about because I have lots of things to do in the afternoon (mundane sort of stuff that I will fascinate you all with in my next post). And of course, I'm looking forward to tomorrow night.

Tonight, when I was making dinner, I ended up saying a lot of inappropriate things. Well, not inappropriate, but I sort of cultivated this image of myself here at the house as being the good conservative type that wasn't likely to start brawls about silly things. But, that just hasn't been working for me and frankly, when you say annoying sh*t that smart people shouldn't say, well, I like to call you out.

SO, due to my cracked outness and my general sense that I want to call BS, I was forced to pimp smack a ho when she suggested that the London water was not of high enough quality to drink and that we should all drink bottled water. Now, mind you, this is a biology student who has just finished either her MA or PhD (never remember). I had heard her say that before (and expressed skepticism) and because I used to do that type of work and I was curious, I checked it out. As suspected, it's total BS manufactured from the bottled water industry (at least that's my theory). I told her as much. I don't think she liked it much, but, as I heard in a movie once, "that sting that you feel right now, that's your ego taking a hit."

This story, of course, is only being related by the likes of me because it's a snapshot of something I've detected about these Euros (not the Brits though). A lot of really smart people are easily persuaded by incredibly niave shite, but unlike 50% of America, they go to the left. The Brits that I know share my distain (or skepticism) for that kind of tripe. Take The Missing Link, for example. Pretty much every time she opens her mouth, barrels full of assininity spew forth (and yes, I spelled asininity wrong on purpose). This morning at breakfast she detailed her great love for spiders and how she missed them, which, me being the 5 hours of sleep and up at 8 am sort, found imminently stupid. I mean, she would probably shed a tear if she saw me kill a spider. Which of course leaves me on the lookout for spiders when she's around, because I have a theory that needs testing.

ANYWAY, the point is, it's not that I'm a complete a**hole (only partial), it's that everyone has their limit and I think I've reached mine. The folks back at GDC know what I'm talking about here.

Final thought: I think the Irish accent is actually more appealing than the British one. It has a certain cadence that the Brits don't have. Of course, there are lots of different Brit accents, so once again, I have no point.

I'm off to douse my head in the Thames. Be sure to check out: www.bluntpoint.blogspot.com.