I spent practially my whole weekend with Tara, and I'm still recovering.
Saturday seemed like a good day to drive all over hell and back and not eat or drink anything.

We somehow mananged to squeeze going to the Dodge dealership, going to the Porno store, having to take Ms. Gabbie to the animal hosipital (and sadly put to sleep due to sneezing big gobs of blood) and a trip to the liquor store all in one day.
After all that, I feel like we were entitled to a Dominos/Woodchuck/Valium binge.


Dear God.

Can I just say I can't remember the last time I got that tore up? I don't mean like "kinda goofy drunk" I mean like...Calling everybody I know and screaming Journey songs at them (Sorry, Sam!), passing out on the living room floor and waking up at 11:30 the next day with no pants on. (How did THAT shit happen?), finding my cat shut up in the linen closet the next morning, and, my personal favorite, not being able to smell anything all day because I smoked half a pack of cigarattes in like, 3 hours.

I've heard the old saying about Woodchuck..."Woodchuck makes you upchuck" Well...I didn't make me so much upchuck as it made me feel like a vacuous black hole. Totally, totally empty. I couldnt' form a complete thought.

"Asprin. Biscut. Cat. Towels. Need. Sprite."


I walked around all day yesterday like a zombie. A retarded one. A big, drooling, retarded zombie.

But here's the wierd part - I haven't been able to open this cabinet in the hall for like a year. I slammed it shut one day and it just never opened after that. When I woke up sunday, It was open. I could just picture me and Tara Yanking that door open with druneken slayer-like strength. That will have to do, since I have no Idea how it actually got opened. Going throught it was like a treasure hunt. I found my rhinestone mouse, a whole bunch of CDs I was missing (The Catherine Wheel, Grant Lee Buffalo) and a soup ladle.

WTF was a soup ladle doing in that cabinet?

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