Vacation Friday Part #46

Yeah, I saw the weather forecast and had to take today off. Wisconsin summers don't last very long and you have to take the good days off when you can get them. And since I probably won't be taking a real vacation this year (economic stimulus check gone, I'd rather not talk about it - involves a newly renovated casino, which I pretty much funded 100% of it), I plan to use my vacation days here and there based on the weather this summer.

At my last job I got four weeks of vacation. I went to Cancun twice a year for two weeks at a crack for three years. That was pretty freaking cool. But I was kind of a peon there; I don't think I could take two weeks off at my current job. Getting old and having responsibilities sucks.

(I'm not sure if the puppy likes me being home. She's just sleeping on the deck on the shade. Guess she'd be sleeping anyways.)

So I'm sitting out here, in the sun, finally exposing the titties to the sun - been wearing a tank top all summer - wondering if I have the funds to go to Cancun for a week (yes), but not wanting to spend the funds for a Mexican vacation (definitley), and contemplating how mad the Renter would be if I went to Cancun and didn't invite her (she and I don't get along well outside of Milwaukee county).

I heard passports are going for $100 now-a-days. Fuck that.

I've spent enough money at the bar on my credit card that I can get a free flight on American. In October. But you know me, it's going to cost another $400 in beer while I'm down there sitting on the beach and in the clubs (i.e., dive bars with some dude strumming a guitar in the corner - I don't do clubs - unless some hot Chicano is making out with me like the last time I went to Coco Bungo).

(Seriously, that happened, why don't you believe me? She was way out of my league but I was white, she didn't speak English, and wanted to bear my children and come to the States. Legally. Like getting married. Or so I thought. She didn't put out. Fucking cunt. I tried to tell her that's how kids came about - even anally - but no, didn't seal the deal.)

So, as it stands, I'm stuck on the deck (not that I'm complaining), with a cooler full of beer and a sleeping puppy. Things could be worse. I could be a 20 lb overweight wanna-be weightlifter who drinks too much - oh fuck.

If you are any kind of a weightlifter, try the Update #2. Three days a week, every body part, low sets and reps - give it a shot. It's been working for me, even though I've only gotten in the gym twice a week for the past month. Don't give me shit for not following the three day thing, I've been drunk/hungover. But I'm good.

So, to conclude this drunken post on which I've hit the backspace key more than any other... well, I've got nothing. I'd like to see New York and since I've been sleeping on the floor next to the puppy's crate for the last week I wouldn't mind camping out in your living room for a weekend if you'd offer. And as much as I hate airports a parking spot would be nice - I just don't fit in airplanes and a long drive with the top off of the Jeep would be nice - I'd gladly pay the bill at Third and Long on a Monday or Tuesday (yes, Swandad, I'll be sure to tip the tenders).

Till then, or tomorrow, peace out.