If you're anything like me, your stream of consciousness went a little something like this tonight:
"Man, this Rainbow Bright Touchdown Wand is scoring these Patriots way too many touchdowns today, but I'm really glad I didn't participate in wine bombs on a Monday. At what age can I start to be considered a barfly? Gosh, I like to think I'm not old and annoying enough to qualify next to these folks. Shit, tomorrow I have to go into work early so I can leave early enough to make it to that chess meeting on the south side. You know, I only came here tonight to see redhead, Blind Melon artist girl, and she just stopped in for 12 seconds in her Mega Man boots to pick up her makeup bag. Still, she did grab/pinch my waist on her way out, which is a good sign, but she has a boyfriend. She is adorable with her robot artwork . . ."
That all makes perfect sense, right?