Let's face it, impulse control didn't come standard on this model.

From my spoon-throwing blood-drawing cafe antics, to my roomates who wouldn't sit on the couch with me unless I was wearing socks for fear that there would be "attack of the toenails," I have come to realize that I do some goofy shit.

Adding alcohol only makes things more interesting. Let's go back to last night. (in my best Sophia voice) Picture it: Bdubbs, last night . . .

Me, holding a cup of ice, innocently engaged in conversation with my friends.
Ryan (one of the friends) insinuates that I won't throw said cup of ice at him, or at least I chose to take whatever he said as insinuation. Who knows, he probably was just breathing and I took that as provocation.

Flash to the Bdubbs server saying, "Sir, we can't have you throwing things in here. If you do anything like that again, we'll have to ask you to leave." Hey, at least I didn't hit an old lady in the head with the ice after it ricocheted off of Jason like the time I threw ice at Lil' Chef.

I think cmujimmy got hit with some of my icy projectiles, too. More people are hurt by friendly fire.

Since I even do crap like this when I'm sober, it's a wonder my friends will go out in public with me. Maybe it's why they spend time with me, I'm comic relief.

Other thoughts from last night:
I went to the bar with rugbynut2 for the first time ever!!! Woot. I love you, Amy Jayne.

I don't care what you say, cmujimmy, someone played The Carpenters on purpose to distract me from trivia. That was a gay land mine if I ever saw one.

I now have over 100,000 players plus points, which means I've played between 100 and 200 games since I've had this ID (I've had it for years).

Thank you, Scotty, for taking me for a drive. I swear sometimes I'm like a dog, I just want to go for a car ride. Please, no jokes about being able to lick my balls.

Well, I guess I should work now. My team camp checks in in a few hours. Fire up!!!