Bored, bored, bored

Ya know, the problem with meeting a writing quota is that when you do it, you've got nothing to occupy your mind for the rest of the evening.

Did I schedule a date?

I did not.

Is there anyone local suitable for a booty call?

There is not.

Again I weep.

That buzzing sound you hear is a vibrator. Now if only my ex roommate hadn't taken all the good pornos. Depressing, I tell you, depressing!