Ow. My Hair Hurts.

I love it when Saturday night lasts until Sunday night. I don’t love the brain pain said Saturday night marathon results in. My whole body hurts. I have bruises. They’re explainable, i.e., I know where they came from, rather who they came from. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more. I blame Matt the Miller Man.

He invited me to a wine tasting. We tasted 15 wines. I’ve never tasted more than four at a time before, and the 15 included a margarita wine that looked like peppermint Scope. I can’t even tell you what the last five wines were. The wine lady believed in heavy pours, and frequent repeats. Purple tongues galore.

Then after Stefanie caught the bouquet at the fun wedding, we met at the usual place. We met these idiots from Oklahoma. One was a married football coach who didn’t take his vow of fidelity very seriously and then he spit on the floor. Talk about three strikes. I didn’t hesitate to tell him exactly how disgusting I found him to be. “You are disgusting and unsanitary. You could have SARS.” His wife should leave him. Immediately. I curse his team with a losing record for the next 25 years. He was easy to get rid of, but his idiot friend kept loitering around Stef. We fixed his wagon. We recruited foreigners. Nothing scares off Oklahoma idiots faster than a man with dreadlocks.

The foreigners bought us drinks aplenty and we stayed until the lights came on, then we went home and drank some more with said foreigners. That was unnecessary. We have agreed not to do that again for some time. St. Paddy’s is in six months.

The Streak remains unbroken. In the Clintonian sense. Don’t judge, you dweller of a glass house! Five and a half years and counting! That’s got to cause cancer or something.

I tried out a new place to take my Algebra tests online. The Tipperary Inn. It’s closer to my house than the other place I go for free wi-fi, but since it’s a bar, it’s a bit loud, even in the late afternoon before anyone really gets there. I found an outlet to work near, but these other dudes needed it as well so I had to listen to this blowhard’s expert testimony on everything from Social Security to the pyramids. I can’t even tell you how he got from A to B on those topics, but he damn sure knew everything about everything, let me tell you.

Then the Irish music groupies got there way early so they could sit at the table right in front of the band. It was only 5:30. They must really love Irish music. Anyway, I rushed through my test and didn’t bother checking my answers so I got a subpar grade that is UNACCEPTABLE. But that’s ok, because I get three swings at the piñata. Yes, you read that right. I get two more chances to take the same test. That showed me which ones I got wrong. And the correct answers. I also have a week to complete it. Community college is weird. If the site doesn’t generate new questions when I take my next crack at it, then it’s pointless taking Algebra again because I’m sure as hell never going to learn anything. Yes, I did write down all the ones I missed. But I didn’t write down the answers. I am not a cheater, and you should know me by now if you thought I did. Cheating is for idiot Oklahoma spitting football coaches, not ReadBecca. ReadBecca is an academic angel, if nowhere else.

Also, I love Queen Elizabeth II and Inspector Lynley. They are good for hangovers.