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Wednesday, December 31, 2008

 
I don't know about this one, this day, that is. Get to work and plunk my money into the coffee machine, but the change entering the machine doesn't make the right noise of change hitting change. It stops halfway and doesn't register on the machine's screen. And hitting the return button doesn't spit the change back out. Shitcock, no coffee today until the guy with the plumber smile in the back of his pants fixes it. And then the pager goes off. It's not even 7:45 and I'm seriously getting paged because a guy doesn't have his desktop icons and can't work the start menu?

Yes, it's been the longest December ever, if only because I've seen more snow in these 31 days than anyone's seen in this month since some asshole came up with the idea of Decembers. There's a pile of snow on my curb that was basically non-existent at the beginning of the month, but now is as tall as me and yet the snow plow man can somehow get the snow from the street to go clear over that pile, beyond where my grass should be, and wind up on my freshly shoveled sidewalk. WTF, guy? You know, in Milwaukee, they kick your ass for that.

It's well known this is my least favorite time of year because of bitter fuck cold, snow, and holidays. These holidays weren't created with single folk in mind. There's this new year's thing that I learned my lesson from a couple years ago and now tell anyone inviting me to a party to fuck right off because you know as well as I do that at these new year's parties, there are no single people. But by the time you get there and realize it, it's too late. It's here or nothing. So the plans for this one include one pack of Lucky Strikes and one $70 bottle of whiskey that I'm hoping with do its job quickly and efficiently and have me passed out before 10:00pm tonight.

But then, after this one, you get the ides of February, a day in which I downright refuse to leave my house because people are in one of two moods: Sickenly happy or really pissed off. Either way, I don't want to deal with them. It doesn't help the situation that, by that day, I'm tired of everything outside being grey and white. I want color. I want it already and it's not yet January! But soon enough it'll be Smarch 17 and even the lousy Smarch weather isn't going to stop me this year from breaking my record from three years ago of 12 pints (1 Tommy Tumult[1 pint Murphy's + many shots of Bushmills], 10 Guinnesses, and 1 pint John Courage) in a day with no puking.

Where's this going? I don't know. Perhaps you should toast tonight the same way I'll toast tonight. Raise your glass high in the air, say "Bottoms up to better days" and drink. If you're not that smart, you might think that saying means today sucks, but that's not the way you should take it. If today was good, tomorrow could be better, so bottoms up to better days. What else you gonna say with your glass held high? "Here's to nipples, for without them boobs would be pointless"? No, it doesn't quite have the ring to it. Anyways, here's to another god damn new year:


said Tommy T. at 8:42 AM - #
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