OK so it's Sunday night, and I'm indecisive about going to work tomorrow...
My epic bout of laziness is brought on the culmination two epic nights.
Thursday night we (my housemates G and H) ended up at the strippers around midnight, not pulling up stumps until last dance was called, because that's how we roll. Home by 03:30, there was very little point of me going to sleep before work. There would have been a greater chance of me sleeping through my alarms (yeah I have multiple alarms).
Worked Friday, very very tired, sucking down jumbo cans of Redbull. Crashed hard that night, in a recliner playing poker.
Saturday night I was ready to go, having slept most of the day. But my housemates we being boring and tired. So i headed alone to the strippers, just for a bit of fun. Nothing like walking in and hearing a unison of high heel, g-string clad strippers squeal "It's Mr T, hey Mr T". To explain, a while back i got a Mohawk (similar to juice's from Son's of Anarchy), however it has since grown a bit and is complimented by a gruff punk bushy beard. So everyone last night was calling me Mr T.
Tonight however I've shaved off my Mohawk. I'm tired of epic proportions, and the thought of work, make the eyes of my soul wince in fear. I'd rather call in sick, and spend the day painting and sketching, with the occasional puff. But i am an adult now, and after all those lap dances are not free, money has to be earnt before it can be spent
My epic bout of laziness is brought on the culmination two epic nights.
Thursday night we (my housemates G and H) ended up at the strippers around midnight, not pulling up stumps until last dance was called, because that's how we roll. Home by 03:30, there was very little point of me going to sleep before work. There would have been a greater chance of me sleeping through my alarms (yeah I have multiple alarms).
Worked Friday, very very tired, sucking down jumbo cans of Redbull. Crashed hard that night, in a recliner playing poker.
Saturday night I was ready to go, having slept most of the day. But my housemates we being boring and tired. So i headed alone to the strippers, just for a bit of fun. Nothing like walking in and hearing a unison of high heel, g-string clad strippers squeal "It's Mr T, hey Mr T". To explain, a while back i got a Mohawk (similar to juice's from Son's of Anarchy), however it has since grown a bit and is complimented by a gruff punk bushy beard. So everyone last night was calling me Mr T.
Tonight however I've shaved off my Mohawk. I'm tired of epic proportions, and the thought of work, make the eyes of my soul wince in fear. I'd rather call in sick, and spend the day painting and sketching, with the occasional puff. But i am an adult now, and after all those lap dances are not free, money has to be earnt before it can be spent
lauretta:
sounds like a fun weekend!
deadlyrecoil:
grazi, it sure was