August 25, 2002

I went out last night with Brad & Martin to have some beers. In my brilliance, I walked two blocks and bought some cigars for us to smoke out in the bar's 'garden' section. Nicotine & alcohol. By the end of the night I was in full control of the jukebox and subject the bar to 7 songs from a Grateful Dead album, including Space. Finally, as our conversation dropped to a minimum and we all started staring into the distance and/or eyelids, it was time to go home.

This morning I'm a bit rough around the edges. I went to the supermarket to pick up a few thigns and could tell that most of the other shoppers had not been out late the night before. I was struggling with explicitly commanded my body. "Legs, MOVE. Arms, MOVE." Others there were bright, cheery, and clean, discussing the merits of the various apples on display. I grabbed a cup of coffee, the needed items and headed out.

So while I have stories about geocaching, gaming, toenails, and what not, they will have to wait until I get my shit together.

Posted by michael at August 25, 2002 09:54 AM