It�s been a long, rough week, y�all. I apologize for having been so lax in the updating department, but quite frankly, I�ve been totally exhausted. It�s been one of those weeks where you lay there, staring at the television, thinking to yourself that it would probably help immeasurably if you just turned the damn thing on, but the very thought of rising up and reaching for the remote control wears you out.
On top of that, my car continues to have technical difficulties in the wake of its surprise attack from the rear by some distracted ho in a monster truck. Shortly after the turn signals ceased working, the trunk release took a leave of absence as well. The turn signals and trunk release were swiftly joined by the air circulation control, and then this evening, I noticed a particularly alarming sound coming from the chassis as I was leaving the grocery store.
This sound was nothing compared to the sound it segued into as the ENGINE MOUNT FELL OFF. I guess I should clarify that it didn�t fall off all together -- just the one side. However, this is still not good news, nor do I feel at all safe navigating my car around the streets of L.A. when I�m no longer sure what, exactly, is going to come off next. Already my vehicle makes an incredibly loud and head-turning scraping noise, thanks to the engine mount�s close, personal relationship with the asphalt, but if the other side should choose to detach itself as well, I would like very much to not be on the road at the time. Ergo, I will be walking to work this week. Fun.
Also this week, I will be calling a few useless insurance agents and raising six kinds of hell, demanding to know why I�m still sitting around on my ass waiting to see some results. I mean, what a bunch of fuckheads! I�m seriously considering writing an expos� on how badly people get jerked around by bureaucrats when money is involved, but�well, that would be like reporting that the sky is blue.
The other thing I did for fun this weekend was to lie in the fetal position and clutch my stomach for about seven hours Saturday afternoon. See, there was a celebration on Friday for everyone involved in that freelance project I was working on, and I got just a little bit drunk. The evening started off great, but by the end of the night�well, frankly, I don�t really remember the end of the night, except in extremely hazy moments. I promise it will be the last time I ever mix my own drinks without a recipe and measuring cup.
Anyway, I woke up on Saturday with the intense desire to die. My head didn�t hurt as badly as I expected it to, but my stomach more than made up for it. It was the sort of hangover where you lay there, staring at the television, thinking that it would help immeasurably if you could get to the bathroom in order to�empty yourself, but being too afraid that if you move at all, you won�t even make it to the bathroom, and so you just lower back down (slowly) onto the bed and pray for a good, strong bolt of lightning to shoot through the window and vaporize you on the spot.
In the end, I�m just as happy to report that I was not vaporized. My desire to drink, however, seems to have disappeared. At least for the time being.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: what does �lmo� stand for? [Beats the shit outta me.] And: ignoring parking ticket I�m Watching: Alias. It took this season a little while to get its foothold, but I�m starting to get into the groove. I�m Craving: Chocolate chip buckwheat pancakes with almond butter and real maple syrup.