I'm hungover. I love it when I'm still hurting more than 24 hours after I started drinking. It reminds me of when I was young and stupid...you know, last week.
Yeah, so I had a big date with 11 Lone Stars last night (as Jessica would say) and they convinced me to take a nice little driving tour of the county between 3 and 5 AM. I didn't do anything wrong or get arrested, or kill anyone, or drive in a ditch, and I remember being content except for wishing I had more beer and a few ciggies...and a date, but whatever. You go trolling for sexual healing around here after the bars close you're likely to end up living in a trailer and appearing on Jerry Springer before your next birthday.
So I got home safe, went to bed, and got up at noon today to help mom with all the ladder work in the kitchen. Did you know that if you, while hungover, climb to the top of a ladder, look straight up for a while with your arms over your head, then look back over your shoulder, you will swoon immediately? Now you know.
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