For only the second time in a year, I had a weekend all to myself. No kids. Double you tee eff?! What to do, what to do?
A time for introspection and prayer? No. Fuck that.
A time for chasing old girlfriends or trolling for new ones?
Me: Fuck yeah! P**** beers all around.
Budget: ha-hah! Not so fast, my friend. Not this weekend.
Karma: This is just too easy. See, it’s not just me fucking with you, but I am liking the whole irony angle.
Terrior Wine Bar in Scottsdale: Fucking loser. We didn’t want your drunk ass around anyway. And no, we DON’T fucking serve “dog wine.” Or Osama wine. It’s pronounced Ter-wah, as in Ben-wa. And no, don’t even think of saying it.
So, no. Interweb geek land does not count.
A time for expanding my mind? Maybe, if you count learning that plaid, polka dots and pinstripes do not a power suit make.
Sleep, gym, beer, beans, football. Blowing my diet due to the munchies. Cutting edge shit.
Oh, plus my budding career as a computer repair technician. They’re really in demand and they make good money.
I am so fucking lame…