Mondays Are Just Too Damn Weird

We Should At Least Get The Occasional Bonghit

Slow weekend. Didn't go to my 20th high school reunion, if you're wondering. Yes, I felt a twinge of regret as the appointed hour came and went. Yes, I feel a twinge of regret today. I'll get over it.

'Twas my birthday as well, yesterday. Celebrated by sleeping late, then staring at my square-headed girlfriend for a few hours, then taking a nap. Pretty much like every other weekend. Yay, 38. I did go see Miami Vice at the new movie grill. It was OK, but needed more pastels and Armani. Not one Bren Ten, either.

My boss was off today, so I was looking to skate a bit. Hah. As if. The hordes of people PO'ed at The Man have my phone number, and I'm apparently on speed-dial. Busy, busy day.

I'm off in a bit to meet the 'rents for dinner. They want to celebrate another year of me on the planet, and for a free meal, I'll let 'em. If you see on the news about a mass shooting in a restaurant, though, it's 'cause those idjit waiters were warned not to pull that birthday song & dance BS and did it anyway.