I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure…
I’m getting old.
Atlanta was the coolest weekend ever, but I think I’m paying for my sinning as I’m sick like a bastard right now. This is nowhere near as cool as being ill like a Beastie, goddamit.
This sucks, I just can’t catch a break from drinking and fun.
WHO just said that?
I tried following the advice of my “doctor,” about not drinking beer and getting rest, but she’s the one that kept me up all night the other night (JUST drinking and talking, unfortunately), and therefore can’t be trusted.
I got a Latvian buddy that swears the best way to kill a cold lies in the bottle that he gave me for my 30th birthday.
Kristaldzidrais Vodka.
Don’t ask, I don’t know how to say it either.
But that shit is good.
He showed me how to drink it properly, and I really did feel better. ‘Course I drank enough to not only forget that I had a cold, but also how to walk or pee into any sort of receptacle.
Thank Goodness for my big backyard and it’s soft grass. Asshead the Dog is a bit too… inquisitive, though, about what daddy does in the backyard, so don’t pet her head or back for awhile, dig?
It’s hard to trust that Latvian. When we go out drinking he will either A) introduce himself as “Jeddy, from Iova,” and claim he is American born and raised in Des Moines, or 2) say the crudest things imaginable to women, get slapped, and then claim ignorance of our language.
“I vant to shove my head betveen your legs, and rout like peeg.”
*SMACK*
(rubbing cheek and pointing at me) “Vaht? I don’ spig Eeenglish.”
During one of our ice hockey games, he came full-tilt, ass-first, into the guy with the puck, sending him ass-over-tea-kettle into the opposition’s bench.
The Ref then tried to explain to the Latvian that he had to leave the game for breaking the rules.
“Vaht For?!? He iz fine!”
“This is a Non-Checking League, nimrod.”
“Vaht Czech?!? Latvian, Azzole! I’m Latvian!”
I love that guy.
MyCompany hit some sweet sales goals last week, in no small thanks to the application I developed that I call, “G0ogle is our Bitch,” plus there were some Board Members in town, so the muckety-mucks threw a party.
They can sometimes act pretty stuffy, yet still foot the bill for as many Black ‘n Tans I can drink, so I am hesitant to think that my *ahem* “social behavior” is affecting my job security.
This still doesn’t mean that VPGuy was impressed by my imitation of the shrieking surprise of Hot, Atlanta Girls peeking under the kilt, but a good round of Dynamitesque dancing will set you in almost anyone’s good graces.
I’m even getting the hip-movement thing down, and similar to numerous other ideas I blatantly steal from Pork, I’ll get some video of it up here someday.
If that doesn’t get the ladies wanting me to “rout them like peeg,” nothing will.
Fuck, I’m sick, and this entry blows retarded Antelope.
I’m kicking off my Moon Boots and going to bed.