Moon burn me

I'm in Vietnam now.
Alone.
I'll talk about this town later, but this one time, we went out.

I didn't take many pictures, because I didn't really remember I had a camera.

But I know this much.

I don't like when dopey ass people hit on my friends.

I know it's so necessary to have one at every dive, bar or wherever the night takes you, but still... it's so rude.

If you're going to take somebody who doesn't belong to you - do it with conviction.
Decide you want something, and with her permission - get it.

Or if you're exactly that kind of hanger-on fobber that swings off your arm like a monkey waiting to be thrown a banana - you're lazy. Just lazy.

It's nice to make new friends - I've only just reported to my untouched independence and it's the most liberating experience of my life - but it's not cool to be sloppy.

Now I had my own fun, but this drove me CRAZY.

That person kissing up Bos there is MOON.

Moon was bagging on and on about how he was going to marry her, wanted her phone number (sorry Joanne, I gave him yours) and then he gave me the kickback throw nod, like he was basking in the lusciousness of someone licking his feet.

And you know what happened?

Moon patted my arm with his cigarette and burned me.

Moon, you don't deserve my friend.
I know you tried to charm her by pinching her, and proclaiming her yours to every patron in the bar, and then kissing your dribbly mouth all over her cherub cheeks - BUT SHE DOESN'T WANT YOU, because I would never let her want you.

AND BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T WANT YOU.

Actually, this is just a blog post about people that burn other people.

Good morning! What'd you eat? I got french fries!
And I hung out with a man who looks EXACTLY like George Clooney!