July 30, 2005
WHUPPED
I knew damned well I had a nine hour business meeting today, on Saturday, fer chrissakes, and yet I pounded the gin and juice at the company ballgame extravaganza last night (saw a grand slam! A fucking double-A grand slam! See where I'm coming from?) and headed home at a reasonable hour, and yet felt compelled to carry the party on.
I felt like hammered dogshit today. Ensconced myself between two of my sales buddies, who had torn it up even worse than me. We would elbow each other in the ribs every 15 minutes to wake each other up. Nobody yakked, thank god, but there was a moment or two...
I so needed a power nap when I got home, but the pool had turned yellow algae on me, and all those girls showing up, I had to clean it. Then I had a hair o the dog, and, well, here I am. Ignoring those glistening things in the pool. In the Batcave. Where I belong. Reaching out to my Intrepids.
I don't have a tip jar, but I expect $20 from all of you. For the Grey Goose.
Hey, I'll slide you a twenty, no prob, since I'm flush again and all. Donations for likker are saintly - crowns in heaven, and cocktails.
I appreciate an honest panhandler; got a sign that says, "Will work for vodka and pussy!"? You'll get my spare change, brother...
Posted by: kelley at July 30, 2005 11:27 PMThe glistening things? That, my friend, is why I shall have no swimming pool until my two daughters are grown and gone.
4 years to go for the eldest, 7 years to go for the youngest.
Then again, the 20-year old son still lives at home. And almost certainly dips into MY Grey Goose on occasion.
Somebody sure as hell does, I mark the bottle, by God.
Posted by: Donnie at July 31, 2005 12:01 AMI swear to God... you ain't right!!!
Posted by: Sam at July 31, 2005 12:11 AMTwenty bucks so you can dress the bottle up as a Red Hatter again? Pshaw...
Posted by: zonker at July 31, 2005 11:25 PM