Sample Platter - Journal Entry - Ryan Dunn (celeb)
http://travelocity.com

Plugging that. And not just because its friendly spokes...character (it's not really a person) looks kinda like me. That page has been my friend for the last couple of days. We're best buddies now. We have coffee together at three in the morning. Well. I have coffee. Sometimes a cigarette. Sometimes a bag of Doritos. It doesn't really eat much. It's a website, you know. Those don't eat anything. I did let it have a beer last night, though. Not a good idea. Could've shorted out the keyboard. Then where would I be? I'll tell ya, keyboardless. Not a pretty thing. Considering I might need a keyboard some time...hey, today. Happy first. Of Feb. It's a new month, so maybe that resets me. It's a new month. Turning a new calendar page, a new frame of mind. And the New Frame Of Mind (TM) survey says? Leave the goddamn window open, you don't know what you're doing yet.

I need a cigarette.

I need a drink, but if I can't drink, I'm gonna do something stupid. Like buy a plane ticket. Or close that window. With...out buying a plane ticket. Don't look at me like that, Roaming Gnome. You know I haven't made up my fuckin' mind yet.

Isn't this the sorta thing you're supposed to be able to talk to your best friend about? Seems like it. Or it would, if my best friend wasn't someone I've been FUCKING FOR TEN YEARS, who's getting FUCKING MARRIED IN A GODDAMN DAY. Shit. You know who I could talk to but haven't, in a week? Yeah. Angie. Honest to God, I don't know how I even know her anymore. Until last Tuesday, she hasn't said anything about this whole fiasco. But she just had to ask. So I told her I didn't know. And I may have hung up on her. Maybe. I don't know. I might have. What? It's not like you've never hung up on a girl before. You, sly bastard of an ad campaign gimmick. Jesus. The worst part of it is that if I called her, right now, and asked what she thought I should do, she'd tell me to go. No matter what kind of preamble I gave her. Who the fuck does that? She does. I don't know why I haven't married her yet. ...Heh. No, I can't now. Already said I wouldn't. And I said what I meant, and meant what I said. An elephant's faithful, a hundred percent. Faithful, right? I don't know, it's a fucking Hop On Pop book, 'scuse me if I don't remember the exact wording.

Christ.

Heh. Dropped the lighter.

I have a lot of options, you know. It's not like I don't have some stifiling ultimatum. It's like...I could go. And if I go, I could stay for the whole shinding. I could get really drunk at the reception and start yelling about a lot of things that haven't been yelled about yet. I could skip the reception and go get drunk somewhere else. I could skip the reception and fly right back here. I could show up an hour before the ceremony and bitchslap him until he came with me. I could put on a white suit and grab someone to be my Mog and yell, "NO, HE DOESN'T" at the opportune moment. And see if anyone got the reference. I could not go and keep sitting here. I could not go and call up Ange, and see if, she doesn't hate me, if she wants to run off somewhere for a while with me. I could not go and call up Ange and tell her this just isn't gonna work anymore and listen to her be really understanding because I know she fucking knows. I could really keep going, but the possibilities are just endless.

You know what? I don't have to go. I'm really busy. I got shit to do, man. I got a car. I gotta race it. I gotta lot of math shit to figure out with that. Physics and stuff. Like what the hell speed I need to be going to flip the car and kill myself on impact. Because I don't know what the fuck else I could be doing behind the wheel of a car built to go really fucking fast.

Hey, hundred dollars off a Mexican vacation. Maybe I'll go to Mexico. Or Florida. Or Europe, these aren't some bad deals. You wouldn't steer me the wrong way, would you, Roaming Gnome?

Excuse a bad joke, but Christ, I'm just talking to myself here.

Fuck it. It won't hurt to search the flights. That's one button I don't have to be afraid of. And if I got a ticket, who's to say I have to use it? I could always just rip it up and throw it away. I don't have to go anywhere. I could even cancel it and trade it in for something a little more tropical. More European. More anything else than fucking wedding in Pennsylvania.

$306. Is that a deal? I don't know. $403, if I want a "luxury hotel". Fuuuuuuuck. I don't know. My fuckbuddy has a castle, do I need a hotel room? Can't I just stay in my old room? Which would be his room, which would be wherever his oh my fucking god wife is gonna be sleeping?

You know what? I don't want to ruin the party by being Captain Obvious here (when haven't I?), but this is gay. Everything about everything right now? Really fucking gay. I'm done. It's gay. I'm gonna stop dicking around now.