For
Fuck's
Sake.
~~~~
funny how i always read that as Sak, that wonderfully decadent source of many a drunken laugh. I swore off alcohol forever. a few weeks ago it was homebrewed belgian ales, then i swore off all alcohol forever. last weekend, with the girlfriend out of town and my normal routine usurped by a displaced bachelors habit, i had a lovely sapporo with my can of beef stew (pop-tops, lazy man's best friend). then, i swore, for certain, no more drinking for me. tomorrow, it's guiness and fight night as we will gather to scarf unhealthies and drink and make many a mocking comment of the athletic sweaty men on tv, as they punch, kick, and grapple each other into painful unconsciousness before shaking hands, or hugging, and making more money than i'll see all year.
damn, i should really work on those run on sentences. i suppose i'm a little rusty with the writing, since I apparently forgot the capacity to string together the written word.
i didn't sleep well (read: at all) last night, so i'm staying home from my crappy job. my wakefulness was somewhat cemented by this dull pain in the swollen and ready to burst gums surrounding one of my wisdom teeth (left side, bottom). i've never had much issue with them before now, but i have this distinct feeling i'm looking at some nice comfy time in that neato chair that bends and swivels and is really really comfy, but sitting in it is fraught with the natural anxiety that comes with the knowledge that sometime real soon, that nice-faced guy is gonna come in, chat for 12.5 seconds, and then proceed to drive implements and tools from the cleanest end of the mechanic's shop into my mouth in an attempt to dislodge that which has not yet been convinced to relinquish its hold from within my jaw.
damn... another super run on. the grammer gestapo will be pissed. twice.
Fuck's
Sake.
~~~~
funny how i always read that as Sak, that wonderfully decadent source of many a drunken laugh. I swore off alcohol forever. a few weeks ago it was homebrewed belgian ales, then i swore off all alcohol forever. last weekend, with the girlfriend out of town and my normal routine usurped by a displaced bachelors habit, i had a lovely sapporo with my can of beef stew (pop-tops, lazy man's best friend). then, i swore, for certain, no more drinking for me. tomorrow, it's guiness and fight night as we will gather to scarf unhealthies and drink and make many a mocking comment of the athletic sweaty men on tv, as they punch, kick, and grapple each other into painful unconsciousness before shaking hands, or hugging, and making more money than i'll see all year.
damn, i should really work on those run on sentences. i suppose i'm a little rusty with the writing, since I apparently forgot the capacity to string together the written word.
i didn't sleep well (read: at all) last night, so i'm staying home from my crappy job. my wakefulness was somewhat cemented by this dull pain in the swollen and ready to burst gums surrounding one of my wisdom teeth (left side, bottom). i've never had much issue with them before now, but i have this distinct feeling i'm looking at some nice comfy time in that neato chair that bends and swivels and is really really comfy, but sitting in it is fraught with the natural anxiety that comes with the knowledge that sometime real soon, that nice-faced guy is gonna come in, chat for 12.5 seconds, and then proceed to drive implements and tools from the cleanest end of the mechanic's shop into my mouth in an attempt to dislodge that which has not yet been convinced to relinquish its hold from within my jaw.
damn... another super run on. the grammer gestapo will be pissed. twice.