What I need now is a big ole fuzzy coma of Van Winkle proportions. Just a day where I abuse Nyquil or some other over-the-counter snooze-inducer and only leave my bed to empty the bedpan. That, good people, is the size and shape of the heaven I want to live in. But for now this means, when I leave work I’m running home and hiding under the covers for the next thousand years or so.
Aside from a pathetic need for adequate sleep, life has been pretty good recently. This past Sunday saw us hosting a shit ton of our favorite people on this planet. Everyone came to our place to watch old cartoons and eat cereal in our pjs. Of course, we’re all sophisticated scumbags so this also means drinking an alarming amount of Pabst cocktails and mimosas made from Andre, which is the McDonalds of cheap champagne (Three Stacks, what what!) It was of course too much fun and I’ll be sure to post my pictures in the next day or so.
Okay I’m off to swallow another seven hours of labor and then drift into blissful unconsciousness.
Ta ta for now,