Cinco De Mustache, (And/or) Mayo-nnaise

I hesitated as I meandered toward the door that leads to the hallway, that leads to the stairs, to the heavy wooden door that leads to the Underground bar. I debated with myself, finding some kind of hidden strength to resist the urge to drink again. Strangely despite the week long binge I've been on, and I mean hard drinking bender banner week of binging, I still had the desire to consume a 40oz. at the local watering hole. Saner heads prevailed, and I smirked to myself as I chose to continue on my way. I need some sober time. The hangovers have been fierce, but well worth it, many a great night at the bar with good, true friends.

Instead I'm drinking tea, and catching up on some writing I've been doing, namely my fake blog on the Myspace page, which is a disturbing hobby of mine now. I wrote an email for the first time in months, and worked on some music. Band practice. And shortly sweet sleep. My body is in shambles.

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Last nights fun included some arcade action which I really wasn't feeling this year. All the machines are the same, and I've beaten them all in the last three years. The sore arm of the machine gun arm is not worth it. Instead we hung out and drank a lot of booze, talked shit about coworkers and celebrated Cinco De Mayo.

Unfortunately the bar was also open to the public, and the clientele of this bar intimidated me very much. Lots of jock boys and sorority bitties. I've never been more afraid to use a restroom, especially with me and Leonard looking as gnarly as we do. One guy tried to get me to go into the bathroom stall with his friend, in a joking manner, to which I replied, "Give me twenty bucks and I'll do it," and then there was awkward silence, and I peed as fast as I could.

But there was the great bonus of the evening, free drinks and beaded necklaces and maracas that provided so much entertainment. I figured out how to open up the maracas and take out the ball bearings which served as the rattle, which I then threw at various coworkers all around the bar.

You should have seen the confused look on their faces as they were hit by a strange, little something, and then looked around the bar with a most dumbfounded expression. Hilarious. After I ran out of maracas I switched to the beaded necklaces, and then just started throwing beads at anyone within range. And then some of use headed to a porch for some late night porch talking, which is one thing I truly love about this town, sitting and drinkin' on porches.

But hangover was fierce today, and workload was as well. I shredded about sixty pounds of meat today. Goddamn that talk show host. Saturday all hell could possibly break loose. We'll see. I'm half hoping nothing happens, but then my labor will have been in vain. Sometimes my job is totally random and weird, and I like it for that reason, even if its a pain in the ass.

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I find it most strange that I've really taken a liking to showering, specifically shampooing Leonard. I find it a most remarkable break in my bathing routine, and leaves my nose smelling the delicious scent of my manly shampoo for hours afterwards. Plus Leonard gets really soft to the touch.

Ok, I'm creeping myself out with all this talk. I'll stop.

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Anyways, despite my broken body today has been really good. Plus the leaves are basically in full coverage. Everything is new again. I might go attempt to play at an open mike night tomorrow night. Its at a crappy bar, but it sounds like mega-fun. I'm really itchin to perform again.

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Speaking of itchin, my tattoo is starting to shed the scabs, and its almost unbearable. It got me to thinking today, that falling out of love the hard way is like getting tattooed. At first the pain is unbearable. Its messy, and bloody, and it hurts. (if you've ever gotten a tattoo on the elbow, you'll know what I'm saying.) It runs deep. Then suddenly you're through it, the pain stops, but its still there. Then the scabs form, and a little while later the pain becomes an itch, then flakes off slowly, piece by piece. Then one day you wake up, and the pain is gone. Yet the mark still remains, the reminder, engraved forever, sometimes visible, sometimes not. Some days you even forget the mark is there at all, until someone points it out, or you find yourself staring at it for no reason at all. Huh, that's there all right.

Well, that's my stab at analogy tonight.

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Tomorrow I might introduce my new idea for a food related event I have thought up. Its called Cinco De Mayo, (pronounced May-o as in the delicious treat known as Mayonnaise). We celebrate all food that goes well with sweet, sweet mayo (which is like, everything, cuz everything tastes better with Mayonnaise). It'll be a hit for sure.