Ever have a day when you get up and get dressed and get going, but somewhere along the way, you realize that your hair looks ratty and your clothes don’t quite fit right and there’s dog shit in the grooves of the sole of one of your flip-flops and your fingernails look dirty?
Those days aren’t very much helped by the fact that you’re not exactly hungover, but you feel palpably brain damaged by the previous night’s activities. You can feel the gaps around your synapses widen. Words don’t come to you as quickly as they might other times, and you find yourself stumbling over simple syllables. You’re unable to talk to people for very long, because you feel like you’re dreaming.
And then you suspect that you’ve been walking around with your freaking fly open for at least an hour.
Let’s call these days “skank days.”
I had a skank day today. It wasn’t a bad day, though. Just skanky.
Was the residue of your arm writing still visible? That would have been hardcore!
Yes. Yes, it was.
On both hands! Scribbles on the one hand, and the “I’m 21” stamp I got at the door on the other.
THAT IS AWESOME. I AM OFFICIALLY HARDCORE!!
“Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.”
–Matt Groening
I’m expecting an ice weasel kinda day today.