I hate waking up to my boss. Especially when he's completely justified in being upset.

Sorry about the earlier flurry of posts. That was very early 90's of me. Fortunately for everyone, that whole ever-human-being-as-a-microcosm movement crested a long time ago.

I was stumbling towards my room in my underwear and Brian's laptop was sitting on the couch. If Blogger is to believed, this was about a quarter to four am. That doesn't sound quite right. I'll know the time discrepancy after I post this and then I can use "mathematics" to figure out what time it actually was. I'm assuming uniformitarianism, of course. I always do. Wink.

Yes, well, Josh C. and a few of the boys were out for his bachelor party. Joey
tells it pretty good over on his blog. I have some issue with his statement that "I think it's safe to say that though we all reached at least a decent buzz at some point or another, that one Mr Lopez easily was the drunkest of the whole group."

I may have been the only one punching people and throwing up, but that has never been confined to being drunk. I threw up once for sober reasons. I think I was eight years old and had tried to eat two Big Macs. Well, I had eaten two Big Macs. That's why I threw up.

But I digress. At that point in the blogging, I was still feeling very, very ill and the pain I was referring to was not all artsy angsty emotional pain, but mostly concerning the quite physical pain as I was trying to type. My stomach and throat also felt a bit raw. They still do.

So my drunken butt is sitting on a couch in my underwear writing about how it hurts to type. Ladies, you've got yourselves a keeper.

I had an amazing time. I have to thank Nick C. for putting it all together. Not that he'll appreciate my thanks as much as the fifty bucks I owe him for the limo (hence the not driving bit towards the end of 3:43 post.)

But for the most part, I really don't know what I was talking about. I don't know who I meant to contact. I don't know what sunrise metaphor was supposed to illustrate. I clearly intended to publish three different posts in one sitting, unless I got up between the 3:43 and the 4:05 but I'm not sure because I imagine that it would have taken me a while to hammer through the alcoholic haze to get that metaphor out, flawed as it may be.

I've finally reached the point I've always feared: I have gotten so ambiguous and cryptic I don't know what I'm saying scant moments after I've said it.

Despite the tone of the emo trio, I had an amazing time with the guys and at Matt's and throwing up. At least the second time I threw up. There's some sweet video of that. I would like to find a way to host the video and put it up online to share with the world. That way, I can never, ever, EVER be accused of being arrogant. If I didn't know me as well as I do, I would watch the video and think I was something of an idiot.

My hand hurts.