Three Day Weekend

The old me would suicide me for becoming like this, just like the old Alex would probably... be amazingly comfortable with who he's become... never mind that analogy.

I love the work week. Remember in Office Space when the receptionist says "Someone's got a case of the Mondays?" I have the Mondays, only it's a cocktail of red bull, crack, and Viagra. The thing lasts until Thursday, when it comes crash down like a fat (living) version of Anna Nichole Smith after sugar shock. I realize I've overworked the week and will be leaving early Friday, plus I have no weekend plans. So I go home, maybe get Mexican, and probably hunker down to watch Bob all weekend. Most likely I'll drink - and I'm not a nansy pansy, I don't need to company to do that.

I'm sure this doesn't mean I'm adult, but I've got to be past the awkward 'walking around with your fly down' phase I've inhabited for the past decade. I'd like to think I'm not that guy anymore, but I did it again for an hour on Tuesday morning.... just can't seem to jump that hurdle.

Sometimes, you just need to do buy something insanely large. Like a 12" from Quizno's.

Other times you just need to blow a large wad of cash on useless toys.

And then there's the times you have to compensate for having a small penis.

If I were a thug, I think I'd carry a knife with me at all times. I'd mainly pull it out to clean my nails, maybe occasionally cut an apple. That way, even if no one knew my name, they'd know to stay the hell away from me. I'd be that dude that uses a knife for mundane tasks, and that alone it pretty weird.