Lazy saturday.

Woke up today on my friend's couch. I drank way too much at a party last night and was actually a bit scared of walking home at 3:30am. Shut up. It takes about 15 minutes to walk from the house and drexel was spookily empty that night. I could barely walk also. Anyway, got home around 11am and noticed I had made a call at a little after midnight last night. Even sloppy drunk I don't do drunk dialings plus I didn't recognize the number dialed. I don't remember calling anyone so it is a mystery...although there was a brief period of time last night where I put my phone down I think. I'm not sure where I am going with this story because I didn't recall the number so there's not much more to...hmm hold on...ok, well, mystery solved. I called the number. Now I could make up a good somewhat entertaining conclusion to this story but that's not really fair and it would require more than shallow brain activity on my part. So blah, whatever, turns out me or someone accidently dialed some numbers and hit the call button during that time when I had my phone out. It was an invalid number. Exciting.

Fine, I'll make up a better ending. So it turns out the number called from my phone was this drug dealer named Killroy who said I was supposed to deliver this shipment of cocaine to the docks by tonight. I told him there must have been some mistake but he knew my name and where I lived! He threatened me! Shit, well, he did say I would get paid so all right. I guess whoever called on my phone must have known me. Must have been my arch nemesis...Phil. Damn you Phil! Damn you.

While writing that delicious piece of fiction above I was reminded of an actual true story. A year or two ago, a few months after I got my new phone number I started getting these weird calls and messages on my voicemail. Apparantly, my number was close to or previously owned by a drug dealer. I had a few hillarious voicemail messages of totally cracked out people mumbling things about dimes and nicks of things. Too bad I still don't have them.