Wow, it's Monday already. That means that the weekend is done. Totally sucks, dude.
Truth be told, I could do a weekend wrap up - describing all the awesome things I did this weekend. I could write a couple paragraphs detailing my adventures from this glorious three-day vacation from reality. This post could be a diary of the debauchery from the long weekend.
But why waste your time? Especially when I could just explain the bestest parts of the weekend with one simple sentence:
"I was pretty much fucked up the whole time".
Really the only times I wasn't partying, were, well, dang, I guess during the bike rides I went on, but I was pretty hungover and they were miserable. And then the half hour I spent at the grocery store on Saturday. But I was there primarily to buy beer (and some vittles), to keep the party poppin' (, bros).
It's like, at some point, I gotta say, "I'm too old for this".
Lol, like on St Patty's Day (kind of off-topic here, but stay with me), we were in a meeting at work, and were joking about partying that night. And like, the minute anybody said anything about "partying", everybody looks at me. Like they think I'm some crazy alcoholic degenerate that just works, works out, and looks for any excuse to get trashed. I think I may have said something, in jest, about calling in sick the next day, whatever. To which my boss immediately replied, "aren't we a little old for that?"
And again, everybody looks immediately right at me, as if I'm going to somehow defend that haha.
Well you know what?
Here's an ART WEEK!!! b-side, a pitcher of Cheesus staring at a sweet sweet Cadbury Egg. A Cadbury Egg that I never got a chance to nom on this blessed day of resurrection.
And speaking of resurrection, here is my friend, Salma Hayek, putting the erection into resurrection.
I apologize for any grammatical errors; hey, I'm capping the sabbath off with a nightcap. Or three. Should be back to my normal literary perfection on Tuesday.