girls are like buses: miss one, next fifteen, one comin'.

Another late night.

The game was amazing until the 7th or 8th inning. Ugh. The seats, though . . . unbelievable. Twenty rows behind homeplate. So good. I love my dad.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop after the game. Ruh-diculous. Way funnier than fucking Land of the Lost.

Tons to do tomorrow. Not feelin' so great. Really excited to be gettin' out of this place, though.

Bed.