Again with the weekend over here!
The weekend looms, and once again we respectfully approach the iPod, using its prophetic like properties to determine our immediate future.
This morning’s commute’s playlist?
Tommy The Cat by Primus
Too Fake by Hockey
Top Yourself by The Raconteurs
Train in Vain by The Clash
Treat Me Like Your Mother by The Dead Weather
Truth Is by Brother Ali
Tukka Yoots Riddim by Us3
Hey! You know what I just realized?
Every song up there starts with the letter “T”, international letter of looooooove. Somebody’s getting lucky!
Not me, of course. I’m married.
And yes. I made that up.
It was not too long ago that I had a bit to drink.
And by “a bit”, I mean a lot.
I’m a good drinker, a happy little drinker. When I drink I want to laugh. I want to dance and sing and tell stories.
I’ve never understood people who fight while they’re drunk.
What a waste of a buzz.
So I was sitting at a friend’s house the other night, tipping a few back; and we reached that special time of the night where a foray into the refrigerator seemed like a good idea.
Hey! We hadn’t eaten for three, maybe three and a half hours. It was time.
The fridge was a disappointment, frankly; but that didn’t stop us.
“What’s this?” I asked, sniffing the contents of a Styrofoam container. “Catfish?”
“I prefer to think of it as “Dam Tilapia,”” he sniffed.
Dam Tilapia. See? This is what a little of the Food Channel does to a guy.
It was the leftover fish’s third reheating, and while it suffered minor flavor-damage, it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed…
That pre-packaged tartar sauce really pulled it all together.
Thanks, everyone. I’ll be here all weekend.
11 hours ago