Hangovers

One of the coolest things to do in the summer in this city is the free Gallivan concerts. Good music, lots of people watching, BEER, and beligerence. And thanks to a recent move, some of my best friends live near the trax line now...so they can stay out and drink until the last train...which means that I can stay out and drink until they have to leave for the train...or so that's what I was told. And someone kept refilling my beer! Not that a beer fairy is a terrible thing...but with no dinner in my belly an entire pitcher of beer is a bit much for little ol me. Upon arriving home from this beligerence, I believe I stripped down and passed out. Waking up in the morning is always interesting after a night like that. My sunglasses in one hand, a pair of earrings next to my head, various clothing strung across the bed, and an orange pussycat staring me in the face. Thank god for the bottle of water on the windowsil. And ibuprofen. To whoever invented ibuprofen-I would like to kiss you. Unless of course you are some corporately financed, illegitimate, bastard pharmaceutical company. In that case...go fuck yourself. But thanks anyways for the ibuprofen. But I digress...and now I sit at my desk, bleary eyed and foggy, awaiting the moment I get to leave from this hungover state and begin a weekend of heavy drinking...if only I could figure out how to become independently wealthy so I didn't have to show up at a job the day after a night of beer and beligerent fun.

Yours always from the land of a beer soaked haze,
Bunny LaFloof