I'm too old for this shit.
Hey.
I didn't feel good
When I went to work.
Still drunk.
:sigh:
Lemme tell ya' little story 'bout a guy named Bee -
Friday night, I calls up a friend and says, "Hey. Let's go to the Abbey." More of my friends called meand I tells them, "Come to the Abbey." Soon, there are seven of us at the Abbey. I got there at 9:30. We left... at... 12:45ish? Who's to say, really. We tripped to Tantra (which was on our way to Love Hate? No? Oops.) where, when the Bouncer told me it was a $20.00 cover, I pointed at him and laughed in his face. I didn't know we had gone to Tantra to meet up with people, so, boy, was my face red when I realized I now couldn't go there, because, you know, I pointed and guffawed at the Bouncer.
(But seriously, Tantra has a cover?! That place has been there for like... as long as I've lived here. That's a looong time in Miami Beach parlance. What business do they have charging a cover?)
So, the only reasonable option, given how shitcanned we were having sucked down Belgian Trappist Ales with 13% alcohol content for the last three hours and fifteen minutes, was to go to the Deuce.
And then to go to Taco San Loco. And then to go home. At 4:40 in the morning.
The next day I woke up at 9:45, and went to McDonald's, and ate a Sausage McBiscuit with Egg, because, they are fucking awesome, and I felt like death. Then I groaned for a while, and went to Marimekko and fucked around, picking out a wall hanging.
Then I lay by the pool, and then I got dressed, and went to Ago for dinner... then the Red Room... then the Setai... then Love Hate.
What time did I get home? 3! Awesome!
Yesterday, I woke up, NOT HUNGOVER, finally, and... dealt with a flood. My a/c overflowed, but that's another story for another time.
What'd I do at 3p.m. when one of my friends called me for a beer at Finnegans? You bet your sweet ass I sat outside drinking from 3-7:45 at which time we rolled over to the Standard and I drank half a bottle of wine.
Then... we went to Durty Purdy. Until 12:40. a.m. On a SUNDAY NIGHT.
Ugh.
I do not make very good choices these days.
My liver hates me. I hate me.
Next weekend I am NOT DRINKING. Sambuca.
Not that I drank it this weekend, but I'm trying to set attainable goals, and I think swearing off Sambuca is a good start. I can move to beer and vodka later... but for now... no Sambuca.
Yeah.
No Sambuca.
I'm getting too old for this shit.