Most people use Memorial Day weekend to go camping and hang out with friends and family. But since I have no friends, and I have no family, and I’m much too intelligent to enjoy camping when I can relax in the comforts of my home, my Memorial Day weekend looked something close to the following:
Leave work fifteen minutes early without approval because WTF, how dare they not give an early release the Friday before such an important holiday. Assholes.
Proceed directly to casino. Discover a nasty bum has taken over my multi-card keno machine. Get pissed. Do several laps around machine fiercely eyeing bum. Realize Bum is not giving up machine. Order tall Black Butte Porter. Lose ass on crappy machine. Drink excessive quantity of beer.
Retreat to Mexican restaurant. Wait at table for ungodly amount of time while Rey goes to bathroom. Fight myself from ordering additional beers in his absence. Rey returns, squirming, with fire in eyes. Informs me he never stepped foot in one-man bathroom. I’m ordered to watch exit, so he can kick ass when dude gets out. Order three bomb, crispy shell, shredded beef tacos. Eavesdrop on neighboring tables. Rey makes successful trip to bathroom. Upon his return, have fifteen-minute conversation on one-man john etiquette. Rey gives diatribe on how leaving the light on is grounds for hanging. I tell him he should’ve checked the door.
Arrive home. Proceed to backyard to ingest more alcoholic beverages. Contract West Nile Virus through mosquito bites on thigh and back. Curse myself for going outside. West Nile symptoms take over. Pass out on couch in fit of panic.
Rise early Saturday morning. Experience sharp pains in lower back. Debate between West Nile side effect and organ failure. Settle on liver damage from too much drinking. Hope I make it through the day. Eat soyrizo and tortilla breakfast. Head outside for yard work. Proceed to get the shit sunburned out of me. Worry about skin cancer. Curse myself again. Take shower. Cry about sunburn while Rey insists I don’t have one. Return to casino. Order tall Black Butte Porter. Drink excessive quantity of beer.
Arrive home. Consume several more alcoholic beverages while watching Chuck Liddell get knocked out by Quentin Jackson in UFC 71. Rey screams, “fuck you, you punk ass white boy,” repeatedly at TV. I inform him our windows are open and our neighbors now hate us more than they did before. Rey is so excited he throws up all over himself, (a rare event). We pass out.
Wake up Sunday with intense hangover. Try to blog. Realize I’m dying. Eat two Advil and three tablespoons Nyquil, my sworn hangover cure. Sleep for two hours. Wake with same intense hangover. Really think I’m dying. Eat three more Advil. Pass back out. Eat bean and cheese burrito. Take shower. Go to casino. Order tall Black Butte Porter. Win ten dollars. Drink excessive amount of beer. Return home to watch Ant Bully. Pass out.
Wake up Monday morning. Do a dance and thank God I don’t have to work. Head straight to computer to assess neglected blog. Realize I have no life. Write about non-life while cooking breakfast. Finish post. Head to bedroom to get ready to go to casino where I’ll order a tall Black Butte Porter and drink an excessive amount of beer.
Happy Memorial Day.