You’re Nearly Dead

I’ve been leaving a drunken, hungover, bitter, depressed mess all over my website. I must rectify the situation with an erudite post that enlightens and edifies my audience. Instead I will post pictures.


Cake Woman made me a cake. Finally, someone who gets me.

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It’s a Party!

From #gallery:

bharat gets a drink

jmullan goes to get beer #2

thumb goes to get second beer

Oh yeah, Monk is drunk on the episode that I am watching on the tv.

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Funnel Web Spider


I mean funnel cake!. I always make that mistake. Uh oh, if that’s the cake, where’s the spider?

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Bloomin’ Onion Machine

Spike knew, and now so do you. The secret is the cold water bath, and this midieval torture device repurposed to manufacturing deliciousness.

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Didn’t You Take Any Pictures Of Art?

No. I mean yes. This Italian Sausage was Art.

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This Is For Dean

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My Hands Smell Like Basil

Lisa always seems to forget that we have a few herbs in the back garden. As I was supplementing her sauce-from-a-jar I said that I am jealous of Paul’s Mom’s vegetable garden with tomatoes and a forest of pepper plants (don’t tell them who ate all the spicy sweet pickle slices, holy fucking delicious). Anyway, Lisa said that next year I could probably dig up more of the yard to claim my own space, and I casually mentioned that I might not be here next year.

I’m a little sad that I didn’t join Paul’s Party Pad as the eigth and oldest Power Ranger, heretofore to be referred to as the Den Mother, or just Mom, but I’m not sure that spending six months or a year living with 22 year olds would really improve my social standing. Nonetheless, it was an opportunity to revel in adolescence.

It was only three or four years ago that I had thought to myself that I would be looking at houses “in a few months.” Then, life went tits up.

I must be slipping, I only took 120 pictures at the art thing.

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Hard Times

I forgot to mention that I had a gigantic and delicious muffin at the Hard Times Cafe after yon Brendan Benson show. I was reasonably drunk, so I was getting delicious crumbs all over myself. It was the awesome. What I can’t wrap my mind around is why the girl at the next table took my picture with her camera phone when she thought that I was not paying any attention. Did she think that I was cute? Was she amused because I was talking loudly about how colored hair, tattoos, and piercings didn’t mean anything anymore? Did she just want a picture of that asshole drunk guy talking shit way too loud in a place he didn’t belong because it was open and he was crazy hungry. Why would a person have a camera phone in the Hard Times anyway?

Who was the wiry guy with the dreads and the blood on his hand who came and sat next to her and her friend? Why did he have blood on his hand? Did he think I was cute? Did he ask about me?

Really, I just want to see that picture. Maybe they were taking a picture of Stan, anyway.

I’m on the last problem of this last homework. My brain is starting to crack. I think that I will skip the discussion section and work and just go home and take a nap.

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Best Night Ever

Maybe not the best, but Lisa, Renee, Dean, Cake Woman, and I all went out and crawled around the downtown area, ending with Pizza Luce. Somehow we closed Pizza Luce, which kind of sucked because I wanted just one more booze. I played pool in an awful fashion at Brits, and there was movieoke at the Local. This all followed an afternoon of Futurama with cheesecake from Muddy Paws. Before that was Sawatdee, and before that was the Electric Fetus, where I did not buy what I expected at all.

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A Milestone Build

Woo hoo! I’m down to 200 pounds for the first time in years.

“What diet are you on?” you might ask.
“I’m on the see food diet!” I would respond.

Seriously, I eat whatever I want and drink whatever I want. However, I don’t want pop like I used to and I don’t want to eat or drink the gigantic servings that I used to. My key is to never be hungry and to only crave healthy things like pizza and cake.

Of course, that’s probably the lowest that my weight will be today, since it has been known to fluctuate within a ten pound range over a 24 hour period. Nonetheless, hitting this target weight means that it is officially time for chapter two, in which our hero investigates a thing called “exercise.” Will the mysteries never cease?

Despite the torrential downpours, the wedding is still on and theoretically outdoors.

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