Now I'm Ready For Month Twelve

Whenever I am out of the apartment or lying in bed or showering or whatever else it is I do, I always think of shit to blog about, but then I either (a) say "fuck it, it will never be written well enough to be as intriguing a story as it was when it was in my head" or (b) forget what the hell I had been thinking of or (c) just feel too lazy.

They always say "finish strong" and it's now the last day of November so I feel like I need to add something on this piece of shit. So, here we go ...

I've actually had a decent week of shit to talk about, but see (c) above for the lack of writing about that. In short, here is the recap:

(1) I went out on Tuesday to see Toole off to Cleveland* properly. By properly, I mean $1 mugs of Bud Light, mocking "We Didn't Start The Fire" (the "cola wars" part was really the catalyst), screaming a lot, shooting virtual deer and cursing the PATH. There wasn't a lot of sleep that night and I probably would have been better off going to the psych ward rather than work the following day.

*I really hope Toole dances and runs around like a fucking psychotic Drew Carey when he gets out of work. He never did in NY/NJ, but I think Cleveland may change him.

(2) Wednesday night I went to see Hamell on Trial. I don't know how many fucking times I have to say it, but I guess I'll do it again: Go see Hamell. You won't be sorry.

(3) Today I had off from work. I wound up helping a former co-worker move her crap out of her apartment as she is off to live upstate.

Productive, No?

I also booked myself a trip. Next Thursday, I'm heading for Chicago for a long weekend that will probably be an extended version of (1) above, but instead of Bud Light it will be Old Style and there will be no PATH train or Toole. Last time I was in Chicago, things were a little messy in more ways than one. I can't wait.

There. That was good. You may now enter, December. Welcome.