Overdid it on the coffee Sunday evening to prevent Easter dinner food coma during the following 3 hour drive, which led to zero sleep and really overdoing it yesterday trying not to be a useless suck at work (still was). Going to throttle it back today and hopefully get back to baseline. Lesson to the kids: the brew is a beast, and if you tangle with the beast, you’ll get the horns. Coffee on, gang.
When I have a normal, garbagey weekend, this post always helps. I do have to say though, on the rare low-key, well-behaved, fiscally responsible weekends, I can’t help but feel I did it all wrong after soaking up this debauchery.
I got into an argument with a 9-year-old (who wasn’t mine) at the grocery last week. Not my finest moment (nor my worst), but it confirmed that I’m probably perpetually too immature to ever be in charge of someone else’s life. (Even if he is a rude little sweatpants-wearing turdlet named Ronald.) I am ok with this.
Nothing better than a chat that would cause anyone peeking over your shoulder to be absolutely horrified by the way you’re treating people you consider your ride-or-dies.
One of the few remaining bang-for-your-buck items at a ballpark I still see (at Tigers games at least) is the ole sack of peanuts. I don’t think I’ve paid more than $5 for a decent-size bag, and the fact you have to shell each one gives you something mindless to do while also keeping you munching for longer than a full count.
Going to be honest, been dragging this week. Decided to buck up, and downed a whole fresh pot of the black stuff this AM. Banging out stuff left and right at the office this morning, kicking in dicks from here to Timbuktu. Gonna switch on the afterburners and soar into this weekend, and I wish the same for all of you!
With each successive blowout as I get older, I both look forward to and fear them more, knowing they will be fewer and fewer, but will leave me with less and less left in the tank. I wouldn’t say youth is fully wasted on the young, but it surely doesn’t hang around long enough.
Got in late last night for my first day back in the office after a six-day bender in Boulder. Time zone changes, daylight saving residuals, a pulverized sleeping and eating schedule, and an ongoing hangover. Much needed and totally worth it, but today will be as bad as the vacation was good; a full-potter of the piping-hot black stuff for sure. I may need to reserve a conference room for an hour or two this morning just to collect my wits.
I’ve known some people to feel the opposite way, but I’m fully on the “bar crawls aren’t the time to hit up a new place” side of things. Gotta stick to the tried and true and maintain a modicum of control over the otherwise runaway train.
The last day of a job you hate is one of the greatest feelings on Earth. I’ve (luckily) only ever had one, but it was VERY bad, and it felt like every facet of my life improved ten fold the second my car door shut in that parking lot for the last time at 5:01. These are significant moments. Congratulations.
Don Cherry would have an embolism watching this. Don’t you know a good Canadian boy would never stoop to this level or self-promotion and fanfare! (As Barrie-born Chewbacca Burns wins the Norris…)
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One of those people wants to be hugging.
Overdid it on the coffee Sunday evening to prevent Easter dinner food coma during the following 3 hour drive, which led to zero sleep and really overdoing it yesterday trying not to be a useless suck at work (still was). Going to throttle it back today and hopefully get back to baseline. Lesson to the kids: the brew is a beast, and if you tangle with the beast, you’ll get the horns. Coffee on, gang.
When I have a normal, garbagey weekend, this post always helps. I do have to say though, on the rare low-key, well-behaved, fiscally responsible weekends, I can’t help but feel I did it all wrong after soaking up this debauchery.
I got into an argument with a 9-year-old (who wasn’t mine) at the grocery last week. Not my finest moment (nor my worst), but it confirmed that I’m probably perpetually too immature to ever be in charge of someone else’s life. (Even if he is a rude little sweatpants-wearing turdlet named Ronald.) I am ok with this.
From cuffin’ season to cuckin’ season
Nothing better than a chat that would cause anyone peeking over your shoulder to be absolutely horrified by the way you’re treating people you consider your ride-or-dies.
Do they still have the bacon on a stick? Gotta love Camden.
One of the few remaining bang-for-your-buck items at a ballpark I still see (at Tigers games at least) is the ole sack of peanuts. I don’t think I’ve paid more than $5 for a decent-size bag, and the fact you have to shell each one gives you something mindless to do while also keeping you munching for longer than a full count.
Holy hell, four square. I’d join the shit out of an adult four square rec league.
Going to be honest, been dragging this week. Decided to buck up, and downed a whole fresh pot of the black stuff this AM. Banging out stuff left and right at the office this morning, kicking in dicks from here to Timbuktu. Gonna switch on the afterburners and soar into this weekend, and I wish the same for all of you!
With each successive blowout as I get older, I both look forward to and fear them more, knowing they will be fewer and fewer, but will leave me with less and less left in the tank. I wouldn’t say youth is fully wasted on the young, but it surely doesn’t hang around long enough.
Got in late last night for my first day back in the office after a six-day bender in Boulder. Time zone changes, daylight saving residuals, a pulverized sleeping and eating schedule, and an ongoing hangover. Much needed and totally worth it, but today will be as bad as the vacation was good; a full-potter of the piping-hot black stuff for sure. I may need to reserve a conference room for an hour or two this morning just to collect my wits.
I’ve known some people to feel the opposite way, but I’m fully on the “bar crawls aren’t the time to hit up a new place” side of things. Gotta stick to the tried and true and maintain a modicum of control over the otherwise runaway train.
Sounds nice. 
The last day of a job you hate is one of the greatest feelings on Earth. I’ve (luckily) only ever had one, but it was VERY bad, and it felt like every facet of my life improved ten fold the second my car door shut in that parking lot for the last time at 5:01. These are significant moments. Congratulations.
Don Cherry would have an embolism watching this. Don’t you know a good Canadian boy would never stoop to this level or self-promotion and fanfare! (As Barrie-born Chewbacca Burns wins the Norris…)
You turn the goddamn heat up to eleven and break that fuckin’ knob right off until YOU’RE ready to cool down, Kemosabe!
Alternate heat and cold (brews) and you’ll be at it like Atlas in no time!
Maaaaaan; that’s primo scorched Earth. Keep flying those freedom-rockets high.
“…those who feel like this bachelor party just came with a homework assignment…”
I don’t know, this might just be me and all, but, I’m pretty sure anyone who feels this way feels this way BECAUSE IT FUCKING DID?!