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4:57 a.m. - 2003-01-02

HOW I SPENT MY NEW YEAR'S VACATION

Happy F'n New Year!!!

I'm glad you made it to the other side of the biggest party day of the year. To all those who fell by the wayside after consuming too many glasses of cheap champagne and wrapping their cars around trees ... screw 'em. We didn't need 'em anyway. Drunken dumbass drivers.

Susie and I kept our tradition going of sitting at home and doing absolutely nothing on New Year's Eve and going to bed by 10 p.m.

That may sound like ... "Gah...the poor old bastard had to sit home on New Year's Eve."

Uh-uh.

THIS poor old bastard wasn't hungover like Whitney Houston at Mardi Gras yesterday.

I have had more than my share of wild New Year's Eve parties and I much prefer the quiet night at home. Back when I was a party animal, I couldn't FATHOM the fact that I would ever spend a New Year's Eve staying at home all night and actually go to bed before midnight.

Now I wear it like a badge of honor.

Soooo...what'd we do exactly?

Wellll...I made some delicious Jambalaya for the very first time.

Naturally, it was low in fat. I used low fat chicken broth and turkey sausage.

...Alright. I used low fat chicken broth. And cajun sausage. Eat me. It wasn't January 1st yet and my resolution hadn't kicked in.

Anyway...that's a great and easy recipe for anybody wanting a hot little tasty dish.

...Or you can call up Latino goddess Penelope Cruz.

Now THAT'S a hot little tasty dish, my friend...

.

.

.

...Christ...I'm SO lame this morning.


After that, Andrew and I played Flash Cards for about four hours.

He loves to take his Flash Cards, spread them neatly and carefully in front of him and then I ask him to show me each card one by one.

"Wherrrre's the ... Clown?"

"Wherrrre's the ... Cat?"

"Wherrrre's the ... chicks with the double-headed dildo?"

...Oops. Hey Andrew...stay out of Daddy's nightstand drawers, hokay??

Anyway...we let him stay up as long as he could function which meant 9:30.

It was kinda comical. I was taking him on a piggyback ride, because that's his latest thing. He likes me and Mommy to get on all fours, he gets up on our back and we take him on an agonizingly slow tour of the house.

I felt him kinda lay down flat in the guest room.

We took a tour of his playroom and when we made it back to the den, Susie pointed out that he was sound asleep on my back.

I wish we'd gotten a picture.

Not that I'd share it with you guys. Something about posting a pic of me in my t-shirt and boxers with my boy asleep on my back ... well ... that ain't gonna happen.

So we put him to bed, had our last sex of the year (very uninspired, by the way. It was more like a chore than an actual sexual experience. I think I woulda rather been mowing the yard while it was on fire rather than having sex), and passed out.

Yesterday I went and rented "XXX" which was better than I thought it'd be, but still not all that great. Basically, it's a Play Station game come to life in my opinion.

We took down all of our Christmas decorations yesterday which was a chore in and of itself. We had three Christmas trees up and a literal ton of crap spread throughout the house.

I wanted to make sure we got it all packed up yesterday because Susie's leaving for Ocala, Florida on Sunday and she'll be gone all next week on business, leaving me and the boy to fend for ourselves and the last thing I wanted was for Christmas decorations to be hanging up, reminding me that it's no longer the holidays and I had to go back to work.

It's not that I hate going to work. I like my job.

I just hate leaving the house to go sit in front of a computer and write boring profiles of insurance companies and hospitals.

And whenever I dare to try and be creative at the job, my work is shot down like an American plane flying over Iraq.

I mean...if I owned a hospital, I think it'd be pretty cool to have my profile start ... "Imagine a hospital full of zombies with pus coming out of every orifice in their heads. Well ... we're not that kind of hospital. We're Saint Francis Memorial Hospital. And we pledge to continue keeping our hospital zombie-free for your protection."

...Alas...most hospital owners demand that I go back to the drawing board when I submit stuff like that.


Reading the paper yesterday, I found out that we're getting a Target store here in our sleepy little burg.

This delighted my wife to no end.

She's a Target fanatic but the closest one is about 90 miles away.

She promised me yesterday that when Target opened, we will never shop in Walmart again. Ever, ever, ever.

Yeah whatever, you crazy loon.

Now...shut up and keep sucking before the boy wakes up.


Have I told you that the wife has taken on a part-time job?

She's now a consultant for a company whose name is the exact opposite of "Northern Dying".

Think about it.

I didn't want to print the name of the company because Heaven knows, some hoity-toity woman would do a Google search for it and run across a crude joke about forcing my wife to blow me while visions of Target stores danced in her head before she got to any word about the company.

Anyway, Susie's all jazzed about this. Basically, she goes and does "parties" in people's homes where she shows off all these fancy home decorations and then forces everyone in attendance to spend $100 apiece on this cheap crap.

And strangely enough, most women are happy to plunk down their husband's cold hard cash to purchase this stuff because it's associated with Northern Dying.

Apparently, she gets quite a nice commission off of it as well. I hate to throw numbers around like they're ornery lightweight children...but does the number 25% do anything for you?

She's already lined up two parties for this month.

I hope she does good with this.

I'd sure hate to kick her to the curb over something as silly as failing at being a hoity-toity hostess.


So yeah.

Anyway...I'm bored and need to get crackin'. It's been nine days since I actually had to "work" work.

I've almost forgotten the daily routine.

Peace out.

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