Just Another Hungover Sunday

The Bangles sang about how they wished their “Manic Monday” was a Sunday.  No thank you.  I wish today would end.  I’m extremely hungover, at my parents’ house, in misery.  I have a headache, the shakes, and a bad case of the stupids.  The only thing getting me through today is the mix-and-match vial of Advil, Excedrin, and Vicodin I carry around with me.  God bless pharmaceuticals.

 

Saturday

Yesterday was an adventure.  The drinking festivities started at around 7 in the morning with breakfast at Remmi’s place.  I cracked a beer, ate some bacon, put on my Good Luck Bear wristband and I was ready to go.

The back room at McGee’s was as dark and damp as ever.  I decided early to put one of the bartender’s on a tip retainer to avoid the hassle of reaching in my pocket.  As BTA informed me this morning, there were whispers going around, behind my back, at my early pace.  I exploded out of the gates, slamming beers left and right.

McGee’s was followed by a quick stint at the tent at Kelly’s across the street then to McGinny’s to meet back up with the crew.  Things started to fall apart at McGinny’s, as per usual.  I tried to stay coherent enough to talk to some people I haven’t seen in a while…apologies to Tyson and LC…you two caught me too late in the game for logic.

McGinny’s was followed by Burton’s where I was reunited with Mason.  You see, the last time I had seen Mason was when he was getting tossed from McGinny’s and tackled on the sidewalk.  The next time I heard his name come up was when Barty told me he was in the hospital.

Well, it seems that Mason was found “sleeping” in the lobby of a random apartment building and taken to the hospital.  Mason came to in the ambulance.  He was checked into the hospital but received no services.  The staff wouldn’t allow him to leave until someone sober picked him up.  Let’s just say that Mason has a very understanding girlfriend.

One by one we started to trickle out of the bar until Mason and I called it a night just before midnight.  I headed back to BTA’s place and made myself comfortable on his floor, for the second night in a row.  My coccyx hurts.

When I woke up this morning I saw that I had a voicemail from Byl at 12:30 in the morning.  He did it.  He drank for longer than I did.  Nice work Byl.

All in all, it was a pretty good day…and as the hospital staff repeatedly told Mason, it could have been a lot worse.

 

WWWGD?

What would Wade Garrett do?

I absolutely LOVE Road House.

 

Barversations

I realized a long time ago that I don’t like talking to random people at bars about “what I do”…especially now with my current employment, or lack thereof.  So what should I do?  How can I answer someone in a polite manner and still have the conversation end?  I tell them I’m a computer programmer.  I’ve used this move a few times and it never fails.  No follow-up questions.  Perfect.

 

Jews for Jesus

Sometime over the weekend I had a conversation with someone in a cab about a little group called “Jews for Jesus”.  Whomever I was talking to didn’t believe that this group actually exists…but they do.

 

Plane Beats

Heard the song “You Are the Woman” by Firefall on the airplane the other day.  Can’t get it out of my head...now it’s stuck in yours too.  Suckas.

 

187

To respond to an email I received from Dr. Mike on Saturday…yes, 187 is a movie starring Sam Jackson…no, I’ve never seen it.

 

The Thurmanator

I got a call from the Lunchbox this morning about his newest food endeavor…The Thurmanator.  Apparently only 7 people have ever finished the burger and all the fries.  Lunchbox makes 8.

I quote the Lunchbox, “now I know I’m in the upper-echelon of eaters.”

Gone are the days of Lunchbox’s new year’s resolution to not eat anything for money or pride.  All I know is that he still can’t drink an entire glass of sour cream…but that’s another story for another day.

 

Still Crazy After All These Years

My sister’s dog is fucking crazy.  All the little bastard does is run around in circles.  My sister believes she can train the little fucker to be a therapy dog.  No fucking way.  The only way this dog could help people is by tiring out the sick so badly that they just drop dead.  Kind of like an assisted suicide dog.

 

The Edge and Co.

“Moment of Surrender”

“City of Blinding Lights”

“Wild Honey”

“Bad”

“All I Want Is You”

"Unchained Melody"