Fucking Ronald McDonald

The only way I can describe the state that I was in this weekend is, well, pretty freaking loaded, even for me.

Let’s see, Friday… Yeah, I don’t remember too much of Friday. Actually I don’t remember anything from Friday. Seriously, nothing. Must have been damn good.

The Renter started talking to me again on Saturday. It’s not like she really had much of a choice. I’m that fucking entertaining.

Started out down the road where they carried the Big Ten Network. My prediction was correct that the Badgers would play well and pull out a win (by more than 7.5). Not a bad start to the weekend of football.

The Renter got hungry so we swung by McDonalds. I wasn’t on my best behavior. There are now incriminating pictures of me floating around out there of me fucking Ronald McDonald. But he had a smile on his face so he must have liked it.

The next stop was Fun World (yes, that place with all the arcade games). Played some ski ball, some air hockey, and some shooting game. On the way out I fucked the giraffe they had by the door. And bent underneath the elephant’s ass. Yes, there are pictures of that, too.

Ended up at the corner bar for a bit. Someone suggested going to see the movie Saw IV. I really don’t like scary movies but for some reason I kind of like this series. But there was one major problem: I was loaded. I don’t remember a damn thing from the movie. Nothing. Guess I’ll have to go see it again sometime.

I tried to watch the longest regulation baseball game ever but once again I failed. I was loaded.

I think we played pool somewhere during the day but I’m not quite sure. But you’re getting my drift about the weekend so far, right? Uh, it was rough.

Sunday I was just going to lounge around the house and watch some football. Two weekends in a row without a Packer game (they play on Monday night) was pretty painful. A little after 1:00 my doorbell rang. Weird, nobody rings my doorbell. And then I saw them: little people dressed up in cheesy outfits. Damn trick or treaters. Even though I had the TV blaring I hid in the kitchen and didn’t answer the door. Five minutes later the doorbell rang again. By 1:15 I was at the corner bar. The little bastards had effectively driven me out of my house. And they say size matters – bullshit.

The bar was pretty dead except for the bartender and a couple other people. I got to watch the Colts lay the smack down on the Carolina Panthers (yet another good job of picking the right team to back). And then the Patriots absolutely killed the Washington Redskins. I’ve only taken the Patriots once this year. Not that I’ve gone against them ever, but I’ve only taken them once. So when I say “oh, I made this pick and this pick” it’s really all just luck.

I was in bed by 8:30 for my weekly Sunday hibernation. Eleven hours of straight, solid sleep is absolutely awesome after a rough weekend.

But then this morning it started. I woke up just before the alarm went off and noticed it was a little cold in the house. I got up and looked at the thermostat: 59 degrees. You see, I don’t like paying for heat. When I first bought the house back in 2006 I got my first heat bill at the beginning of March. I have a 300 gallon tank in my basement that holds the oil for the furnace. In March they came by and filled it since it was ¾ empty. That cost me $300. That got the heat turned off. Since I was living by myself and I’m a cheap bastard I just flicked the switch to off and never thought about it again. Sure, it was 50 degrees when I’d wake up in the mornings but who cared, I was just leaving to go to work anyway. By 6:00 the sun would heat up the house a bit and even then I was just off to the bar. Then the Renter came along and she wanted some heat so I set it at 55. You know, when I first started writing this I felt a little bad for leaving her at home all day in 59 degrees but hell, that’s 4 degrees more than it was all last winter. She probably danced around in shorts all day long. Actually I kind of doubt that. The Heat Nazi lives on!!!