Before quits are called...

I found out something else of immediate interest and consequence:

Rejection is really expensive.

Like crazy car note expensive. When common sense fails, money talks. Fuck what cha heard. Tell you what, I'm not gonna head east for no damn reason... not at those airline prices! And I'd have to get a cab (because according to Mr. Un-Crush there is no parking anywhere in his city)? Uhh, I think it's safe to give a big, hearty FUCK THAT SHIT.

I ain't seeing the east until the original appointed time, which is destined to take place irrespective of my standing with him. I was in mid-stalkalistic-flight-pricing mode when he appeared with the quick IM and halted my evil plans (which of course he knows nothing about). But then I saw the damn costs... and that put my plans on a permanent halt. Kiss my ass... I ain't spending all that money to travel and not get shit outta the experience. No siree bob.

I also figured out something else... but I refuse to even utter the thought. It will not escape my fingertips, nor my mouth. Because to even consider transmitting it is insane.

Prince, help me out here.

I'm going to bed.