Whoa.
Quite a week, quite a week.
I feel a bit like that last piece of bread left in the bottom of the loaf bag. Kind of mangled, a bit crusty, stale and maybe in need of being thrown away.
But now, oh now, the weekend descends upon me like a hooker at a tradeshow. I pronounce this the Gutterpoet Hedonistic Adventure Weekend (GHAW). Why not indulge myself in every decadent, brain cell destroying, immoral activity I can think of.
Okay, but maybe not tonight. Kind of tired from the long week. Okay, Saturday! No, wait. Have to go check on the new house and all. And I have a tee time in the afternoon. Hmmm. I'll be kind of tired after that. Sunday! Yes a delicious Sunday chock full of Sabbath ignoring debauchery!! Uhhh yeah, more golf in the morning, then there some yard work. Hmmmm. Okay I have it!
From 8:00pm to 8:15pm on Sunday night I will party like it's 1999. Or 2099 maybe. For fifteen minutes I will party like I'm a member of Aerosmith in their prime! Watch out, lock up your wives and daughters and housepets during those fifteen minutes! Parrrrrrtyyyyy! But I have to be in bed by 9 for work.
Okay I'm no Keith Richards but it's a start dammit.
I'd like to become a worthless sot, but who has the time these days?