Coffee grinds
It’s eight-thirty, I’m in work and hung over. My head hurts and there were grinds in my coffee. This is obviously a very shitty situation. But there are a few things that make this a little brighter: a) it’s Friday a1) so, I’m wearing jeans b) the water cooler’s finally fixed, so it’s a good day to be hung over. c) it’s not half as shitty right now, at eight-thirty, as it was at 6am.
Last night, Jason and I met up with Rodney, a friend of his from work. Rodney is 45 and having his first baby in just a few months. Rodney is awesome; He’s really down to earth, intelligent and funny. He came out to one of the Jman’s shows recently and we both really hit it off with this guy. So there we are at the CVP talking up a storm and by the end of the night we are calling him “Rodders” and ordering a round of drinks we know we shouldn’t have had.
As with most nights I got far more intoxicated after I got home. There was a point that I was stumbling around in my underwear with a mug full of Kool aide thinking it was very funny that my underwear looked like a bikini. After that, I did a really great job of looking incredibly sexy passing out on my face.
This morning I smelled like beer-sweat and bar smoke. It’s simply bad news folks. I think I have to stay away from the drink this weekend and let my liver re-coup. Maybe some intense re-hydration with lemonade and board games, are you down? Internet, why don’t you come over to my house and we’ll play board games and have a really great summertime chillaxing session. How’s that sound?
The lesson of the night boys and girls is if you catch yourself saying something like “Man, I really love you, Rodders” (even if it’s true) you’ve probably have had too many,
I love you. Come over.
It’s eight-thirty, I’m in work and hung over. My head hurts and there were grinds in my coffee. This is obviously a very shitty situation. But there are a few things that make this a little brighter: a) it’s Friday a1) so, I’m wearing jeans b) the water cooler’s finally fixed, so it’s a good day to be hung over. c) it’s not half as shitty right now, at eight-thirty, as it was at 6am.
Last night, Jason and I met up with Rodney, a friend of his from work. Rodney is 45 and having his first baby in just a few months. Rodney is awesome; He’s really down to earth, intelligent and funny. He came out to one of the Jman’s shows recently and we both really hit it off with this guy. So there we are at the CVP talking up a storm and by the end of the night we are calling him “Rodders” and ordering a round of drinks we know we shouldn’t have had.
As with most nights I got far more intoxicated after I got home. There was a point that I was stumbling around in my underwear with a mug full of Kool aide thinking it was very funny that my underwear looked like a bikini. After that, I did a really great job of looking incredibly sexy passing out on my face.
This morning I smelled like beer-sweat and bar smoke. It’s simply bad news folks. I think I have to stay away from the drink this weekend and let my liver re-coup. Maybe some intense re-hydration with lemonade and board games, are you down? Internet, why don’t you come over to my house and we’ll play board games and have a really great summertime chillaxing session. How’s that sound?
The lesson of the night boys and girls is if you catch yourself saying something like “Man, I really love you, Rodders” (even if it’s true) you’ve probably have had too many,
I love you. Come over.
posted by j-e-s-s-i-c-a at 9:08 AM
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