There's no limit when you're contantly winning.

RRRIIIIIIIINNNNGGG!!

RRRIIIIIIIINNNNGGG!!

"Gahh, FUCK!! Turn it off!!" I screamed as I woke in a violent rage that almost hulred my body out of my bed and on to hardwood floor. I quickly realized that I had to be at work, sitting in my oak wood chair, staring at the computer screen, in about 45 minutes.

"No sweat", I thought to myself as I rose up out of bed, only to come crashing back down in shear pain that would cripple even the strongest of the modern day Vikings. My head felt like it was about to explode. My vision resembled that of a camera man's live video feed during a battle in Iraq. My arms felt week and sore. When I moved, my back responded like I slept on top of a jagged steal sculpture of what an artist's rendition of an epileptic seizure is.

Let me tell you a little something about partying like I party. You see, it's not unusual that on a Tuesday night I decide that it's in my best interest to indulge in a little late night debauchery. The problem is, I get so caught up in having a great time that I forget about the evils of society and the horrible shit that makes its wheels turn... like jobs and having to get up early to keep them. The other problem is what I refer to late night debauchery, others might go as far as to call it a failed attempt at suicide by alcohol abuse, intravenous drug use, and sex with women that I do not know. Whatever... potato, patato.

45 Minutes? I got this. I just need to man up. And by "man up" I mean I need to go in to the kitchen and drop two Alkaseltzer in a tall glass of cold water, run the pot of coffee, take a shower, get dressed, down the fizzing white water with 2 Tylenol, B-12, 500mg of C, and proceed to drink the coffee... all in that exact order. This can be my daily routine numerous times a week. Silly, sick, and if you are dick about it, "suicidal", I know.



To be continued...