Life's a beach
If life is a beach, then I am a shriveled, sundried jellyfish that has been tossed ashore by unmerciful tides and pecked by seagulls. In other words, I may look like, no, I am a haggard, miserable blob with little to offer to the world at large except maybe a free meal, but even though the currents of life have thrown me onto this barren shore to slowly dehydrate, I still pack a mean wallop. That's right, I may be down, but if you even think about touching me you will sting for hours on end unless you can find a nice passerby to drop trou and relieve the pain by relieving themselves all over your burning hand.
At least, that's how I feel right now, but then again, I'm at work where nothing goes right. In just a few short hours, I'll be a different kind of beach life. I'll be the guy sitting in the shade of a nice hut, watching bikini-clad girls bouncing in the surf as a drink something out of a coconut that is full of rum and little umbrellas.
I guess what I'm trying to say is: "LATER SUCKERS!!!! THE BLONDAGE AND I ARE GOING TO THE BEACH AND WE WON'T BE BACK UNTIL WEDNESDAY!!!! MAYBE I'LL POST, MAYBE I WON'T, BUT EITHER WAY, I'LL BE TANNED AND SAUCED!!!!"
Look for posts in the near future that say things like "Note to self: no one EVER has a four martini breakfast." or maybe "ouchouchouchouchouch...those neon lights sure do give off a lot of UV light." or perhaps "whatchoo mean no more drinkee? whatchoo mean no more typee. peeps wants ta hear 'bout stuffs frum da kottt...kutwnm...kotwf. i gotsta rite, doesn'nt eye? gimme nuther cocococonut. puta lime init. now mixum bot' up."
Brown as a peanut, red as a lobster, I don't care as long as I'm drinking.
See you next week,