Oh, God. This again?

 
Boiling Down the Weekend (With No Stats to Shape It)
Here's an excerpt from an e-mail I sent to a friend about this weekend:

"Dude, I didn't say ANYTHING when Bettis fumbled. I was COMPLETELY stunned into silence. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The drama-writers in the NFL front office (or the replay booth in Indy) couldn't have written a more nausea-inducing series of twists. Jesus. When I saw Ben back there on that fumble return, I thought, "What the fuck is he doing all the way back there?" And THEN I was, like, "Tackle him. TACKLE HIM!" In my head. Because, y'know, remember the stunned silence. But somehow . . . SOMEhow . . . I knew Vanderjagt was gonna miss that kick. If he'd made it, and the Colts had gone on to win in overtime, I'd fully expect the Hand of Almighty God to descend from Heaven with a Golden Crown for Mr. Manning. Seriously."

Please let the Steelers be the Team of Destiny this year. Do it for Jerome, guys. And do it for Us All.


In other news, yeah, I've been busy at work. And we're preparing to move our computer at home. Several deadlines from the end of '05 are spilling over into early '06, and now I'm really behind. This doesn't include some things that I've completely neglected and are now becoming somewhat more important. Also, Mia's daycare was closed for MLK Day, but the office isn't, so I’m at work while Mia's "papa" is watching her and her cousin. I think I'm gonna do another couple things after my "lunch break," and then blow on outta here.

Looking ahead, there are two huge-ass social events on the Kamikaze calendar. The first is this Saturday's blowout at Mr. Glory Hole's place. This isn't another post-divorce introspective booze-fest; that's been done to death, I think. (This weekend was the continuation of wedding gift / memento destruction, which culminated in the burning of the wedding-cake topper after drinking a bottle of $150 champagne. I've never wanted to have a digital camera more than I did at that moment. Goddammit.) No, it's a combo-birthday thing. I volunteered to be a bartender, so I'll be mixing up pitchers of drinks, serving up shots (including some that I've invented), and making other specialty drinks. This will necessitate me being relatively sober. But I'll be fucked in the browneye if I don't have the Elph handy for THIS one.

The next event is a month away . . . a Girls on Film vs. Thunderpony show at Tallahassee’s penultimate college frat/sorority bar. We are splitting the whole night (from 9 p.m. to "last call"). Our repertoire doesn't equal three 40-minute sets, so we're gonna do some covers and songs from our previous band. This, too, will receive a lot of play on my Flickr page and here, I'm sure. Stay tuned.
shaken and poured by Scott-san at 12:48 PM