I’m listening to Little Feat (go figure) and Zappa is next (also go figure).
I also have three strippers and 2 eight-balls of blow, and unless we run out of cigarettes or scotch one of us is guaranteed to hear my wake up call at 7 am so I make it home in time for the Steelers game.
And if I don’t, well, you know. Shit happens.
(There is also the distinct possibility I’m making all of this up for dramatic effect and went out to eat, found nothing exciting, and am just pretending to have a wild social life. Also, too. )
*** Update ***
I didn’t mean to suggest that all of my fantasy scenarios involve strippers and cocaine- as anyone who knows me will tell you that is clearly not true. Most of my fantasy scenarios involve the lottery, strippers, and drugs. I apologize for any confusion.
*** Update #2 ***
I should probably point out that nearly all of my recent fantasy scenarios involve someone adopting Rosie. And milkshakes.