Well since the last time I wrote, I’ve tried a few times to throw up something. Heh, throw up. I think I’m going to run with that. Let’s see on the 14th I went out with the Isley’s and did some hostile karaoke/drinking.

I haven’t had a good puke in a while. You see I’m kinda fucked in the head when it comes to the vomiting after drinking. Or for that matter during drinking. It is a refreshing kind of thing for me.

Sick but true. I did a rather hostile take of a Beatle tune and Sinatra. I was really hostile when I did Margaritavile. And I did Margaritavile my way. Instead of singing “I know it my fault” or some whiny shit like that, I scream out “it’s her damn fault.”

But I was in one of those moods. You see according to a brain trust of cluster fucks called doctors my grandma has any where from two months to a year. The fucking quacks I wish they would at least get together and all be on the same fucking page when they make shit up.

Well that’s enough anger for one morning. Back to work. I hate all of these fucks that work here. Except for Stanley.