Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Dappy Doo Dear!

Good morning and Dappy Doo Dear!*

Welcome to 2011. My liver hurts. We put away the better part of a fifth of silver tequila last night. Espolon silver tequila. I bought this on a whim at Blanchard's last week. It's THE BALLS. I have finalt found a U.S. replacement for my English Mexican tequila, Sierra ("it has a diddy little red hat on the bottle cap").

We had a fabulous little New Year's Eve party here last night, just the few of us. I think I fell asleep around 4:00 a.m. Maybe 5:00 a.m. I know an orgasm happened before I finally crashed. I know between KJ & I, we demolished most of the fifth. And about half of the plum ginger cordial. It mixes well with tequila. There was weed involved. And clove cigarettes. Lot of good food.

I haven't drunk like this since last New Year's Eve here. I can handle tying one on like this once a year. Maybe twice. It was a damn good time with damn good friends. I've reached the age where I so seldom drink (and rarely to any kind of excess), that when I cut loose, it's going to be under ideal circumstances.
And I think I'm going back to bed. I am TIRED. And I may still be drunk.

*Dappy Doo Dear has become our traditional greeting here, thanks to KJ's sister, Leslie, who got a kick out of Dick Clark post-stroke.

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