For The Holidays...

I have 11 days off for the holidays. I don't have to report to work till Jan 3rd. Unfortunately, with my job, this doesn't mean I won't be in the office a day or two next week. I have to make sure there's money in the bank so people can get paid. Based on this drunken blog, one might think I have few responsibilities but that's far from the truth. I have X amount of people relying on me. I haven't taken a whole week off from work in I don't know how long. I used to hit Cancun twice a year for two weeks at a crack. Now that I'm "grown up" I can't do that.

My plan for the next 11 days: get as smashing drunk as possible while only eating one large meal a day. I'm going to take advantage of every all-you-can-eat lunch special and every happy hour special within a two mile radius (I already paid the Renter for gas knowing full well my Jeep won't be leaving my garage).

Since I started this post on Thursday (now Saturday), I've diverted from the original plan. By Friday, only two days into the time off, I was beered out. I couldn't even think about beer till after 5:00. And even after that I only lasted five hours at a bar before needing a ride home. Not a good start to what should be a beer marathon session.

Over Doing It

I'm a cheap bastard. When I see the letters F-R-E-E I jump on it. For example, last Friday the FA was kind enough to take me to the Milwaukee Buck's season ticket holders annual holiday game. They served a nice spread of food an hour and a half before the game started. They also had free beer. I had 12 beers in that 90 minutes. For the entire game I was forced to watch to jumbo screen as I couldn't see/focus past the cheerleaders on the sideline. I couldn't even tell you who the Bucks played let alone who won the game.

This F-R-E-E compulsion seems to get worse during the holidays. This week, for some reason or another, we've had F-R-E-E food in the office every day. It started out nicely with a potluck lunch with a variety of goodies available. I was fine with that, stuffed, but good to go. But the last two days they've put out a sausage/cheese/cracker spread from Usimger's. The past two days all I've eaten are sausage and cheese. Top that off with more orange juice than I've consumed in the previous six months combined and it spelled disaster. And my new bar, at which you can rent an ashtray for $1 and smoke inside, well, there toilet isn't the greatest. It handled my liquid poop, just not the six swipes of TP that I used.

This has happened twice now. I think they're going to catch on that its me soon.

Tail Bone

Nine days ago I slipped and fell down my basement stairs. I think I cried in front of the Renter but I don't remember, seeing stars. I went to the gym today, feeling ok but still tender. I sat down on a bench. I leaned back, going under the bar, and felt a sharp pain. I must have made a noise, everyone looked at me, but I sucked it up and did a set. Not much weight, 185, but it hurt. I left shortly after, bruised tailbone wouldn't let me do shit. I'll try it again, addict workout guy that I am, am hope it get's better.

Cam Newton Interview With Chris Fowler

You'd think, after LaBron James' "I'm taking my talents to South Beach" statement, and seeing the aftermath of that, no athlete would utter those words ever again. I just heard Cam Newton say that. And, during the NCAA investigation, he was advised to tell the truth, which he says he did. Good to hear that he was advised to not lie.

Why even give him that trophy.

I Know Fat Chicks Need Lovin' Too But...

...you can't tell me that Lifestyles condoms couldn't find a better spokesmodel than Snookie. I'd be lucky, with my non-existant sex life, to get it up for her.

Sunday Football

I had a rough Sunday. Ended up doing more shots than beers once again. Called the Roomate when things got out of hand, you wouldn't things would get physical with six guys but one guy decided so. The Renter was kind enough to pick me up along with my friend that she doesn't like. He was loaded, head bobbing loaded so I figured I'd put him in the Renter's back seat. Should have asked first, but he was loaded, didn't think I had to ask. Should have. Got reemed out afterwards but I couldn't leave him there. Caught shit for that later, still am actually.

I fell down the basement stairs later and had to take Monday off as I couldn't hardly walk. Not that big of a deal, just landed on the fleshy part of my ass. Sure, there might be disks and shit in there but I'm fine. Not the first time I slipped down the stairs. With the two subwoofer systems it's pretty tempting. But stairs are bad.

My drunken "tweet" for the day. I'll get some better shit on here soon, I promise.

Walking Backwards

Four years and ten months ago I bought my first house. At the time it sounded like a good idea: closer to my favorite hangout, not wasting money on rent and the whole building equity/good investment deal. I have now built negative equity and my corner bar closed. Sure, I can crank my two new subwoofers (yes, I bought a second one) as loud as I want but I'm kind of stranded without a place to go, except for my one friend who lives in the same apartment building that I moved out of almost five years ago. But here's the kicker: instead of pissing and moaning about the walk and people not shoveling their sidewalks, now I'm doing it with 16 cans of beer in my vinyl cooler. How times have changed.

Indoors, Outdoors...

After comsuming 17 beers, going to be at 11:00, I wake up at 2:00 am to a house that stinks of cigarette smoke after the Renter, and her friend/my co-worker, witnessed me step outside into the frigid winter air no less than six times last night to have a cigarette. And then I stew about this until 7:30 when I get up for work. Think I'll be more or less pissed by then?