I should be at the gym this morning but decided to write a post instead. I couldn’t type last night due to a severe case of the shakes.
You see, what I thought would be a relaxing weekend turned into a bender – highlighted by throwing a party at Tom’s while he was staying in a hotel downtown.
First, we had to convince Issac to pick us up at Pujols 5 and drive us to Tom’s. I got a little offended when he accused me of lying about having Tom’s blessing.
I was.
And his suspicions were confirmed when we couldn’t get into the house. I’m sure the neighbors appreciated seeing three drunk guys trying to find an unlocked door while the designated driver looked on in disgust.
Fortunately he called a few minutes later to let us know where he hides the key.
Tom called me on Sunday morning and asked, “Do you think it’s weird that I knew you guys slept here, and the first thing I did was feel my furniture to see if it was wet?”
“No.”
Then he said he wasn’t ready to let the weekend go, so we went back over there, and spent the rest of the day sitting in the driveway. You know, just talking about the ash cloud covering Europe, while sipping Lattes.
I’m not a math whiz but I came up with the following formula:
Sunday Fun Day = Monday Suck Day
Ow oh. Hey you. Who said that? Baby, how you been?