That’s it. I’m supposed to be doing a code review and/or writing an novella about the craziness of New York, but all that I have wanted to do since I got home was lie down in bed and sleep. I don’t even want to pick out highlight photos (like me holding Beckett aloft, or having my arm around the cute waitress).
I’ve been finding the memories slowly, like when h0bbel said that he was listening to Birdhouse in Your Soul and I remembered singing along in the bar pretty much for the benefit of our waitress that first night at Ginger Man, who later said that if we came back the next night she would buy me a beer. Of course, I needed no such help since I drank everything that anyone put into my hands and everyone was so amused by my abilities that my hands were seemingly never empty.
jmullan: don’t mix the grain and the grape
jmullan: and the christmas trees
jmullan: and the potato
jmullan: and the cane sugar
Signe: Potato and Sugar and Grain go so well with each other, though!
The best part of drinking yourself to death is when Elizabeth Shue has sex with you by the pool.