Bad News: Our boss locked the keys inside the building.
Good News: We didn’t have to wait around for a locksmith.
Bad News: My boss finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my Tragic Backstory™. I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress cute girls.
Good News: A cute girl saw me do it.
Bad News: It was Maggie, and since she’s already seen me fall out of several trees, cry because I saw a fawn that was just too damn small, and knows I can ride a unicycle, she’ll never think I’m cool no matter what I do. It’s too late. She knows.
There are million dollar blockbuster movies that were less entertaining than the rollercoaster this post just took me on.
I feel like, if Dionysus is still kickin around the world and partying, then he’s definitely that one guy i saw a long time ago in New Orleans, standing up on a balcony wearing nothing but a speedo and a gold metallic plastic fedora, who was throwing cheap purple & green mardi gras beads at drunk people. he was like, surveying his kingdom, and by kingdom I mean the huge crowd of drunks that was on bourbon street
I think about that guy a lot and tbh I think I saw the face of the Party God
ofdreamsanddragons 