Sunday, October 10, 2004


I've been on a diet for two weeks and all I've lost is two weeks.

Hurting a bit this AM as I had a wedding to go to last night. Old farts like me can't party like we used to. I'll be loquacious and articulate later, as soon as the room stops spinning on all three axes and when the Moonie and Bonzo clones in the space formerly between my ears decide to retreat.

Saxon dogs, throwing a party like that, knowing full well the aftereffects it would impose on the actual adults at the affair. Saracens. Spartan pigs. What other insults did they use in What's Up Tiger Lily?

The food was quite good, but one minor mishap in that the wedding party was supposed to have had the entire restaurant, and some idiot on the staff had given a reservation to some doctors or dentists and their POSSLQs who showed up just as we arrived and were quite indignant as to not being able to partake of this boite's fare. A sister-in-law or some related lower form of life managed to splash some surely indelible sauce on my shirt while excitedly chatting with another protozoan about some subject unrelated to anything of conceivable importance.

Acetaminophen. What a good idea. (FYI, I only had one, yes, one adult beverage. The combination of a Lucullan feast and a long drive very late at night are the culprits here).


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