Dreams

Tomorrow is the day. A sweet, sweet day. The day Smussy should bring her goggles; Killre should stay in the cab of the truck and ignore all knocking, and everyone who reads this blog should bring Visqueen to protect their keyboards and mice. Tomorrow, after weeks of saving it, I blow my load. I shoot my three-toey, snakey, caniney, planey load. And on this magical day you will all be my bitches*.

But alas, it be not tomorrow yet. It is but today. And today, I speak of dreams. The dry kind.

It seems that a drinker like me may soon see their dreams realized. The British have always had a very different way of viewing drinking than Americans ever had. For example, here if you are an alcoholic, you go to AA and stop drinking. In Britain, they teach you to drink "responsibly". Meaning: you are "cured" when you can go to dinner and have only one glass of wine, go home, and not miss it. In the US you are never "cured" you are "diseased," you learn to live with your disease appropriately. Why do I feel like Carlin without jokes right now? I digress.

My point being the British love their drinking and think of it differently than us. When was the last time you had a drink at lunch and were not on vacation or at a holiday party? In Britain, it is called Friday. I digress again. I will stop doing that.

The British have recently begun work on a hangover-less beverage that will "get merry but not legless, wake without a hangover, and avoid effects such as nausea, memory loss, depression and aggression." Do I believe it? Not really. At least not the way I define "merry." But I didn't think the White Sox would win a World Series last year, either. So who knows? I find that this makes me "merry" so maybe the magic potion has already been invented.

See you tomorrow. Oh, and wear something sexy.

*Except of course my lovely wife who I love even more than my wonderful bed that I enjoy very much sleeping in.

Update: No, no leave it on, leave it ion. It's not you, honey, it's me. Just take a little more.