5 O'Clock

“Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

   The air was filled with the sounds of the many nine-to-fivers who had bustled into the restaurants booze promising walls. Sipping my long-awaited liquid tranquilizer I quickly scanned the room.

   Balding men and suit-clad, middle aged women hunched over appetizers in close, but loud conversations about office life; work-life. My nerves, like a bed of exposed hot-wires, were slowly silencing their current with every sip. Vaguely aware that I was covered in the spit of the thirteen patients I had seen in the last eight hours, I tried to smile winningly at my comrade in arms.

   "So how was your day?' I asked, knowing some sordid tale would follow.

Three for the Price of One

   I am officially promoting the new HBO series "Girls" to any woman who suffered through her early twenties and felt she barely made it through alive. Its a show about the emotional little wars we all bare scars from to this day. Basically, if you have a sense of humor at all, you'll love it.

  There's even some funny shit and soft porn in there for the guys. The "soft" part meaning awkward and hilarious. Watch it. Laugh. Thank me later.

Spring is finally the f*** here.

A Fat Slice of WTF!? a.k.a Humble Pie

"Irony is a disciplinarian feared only by those who do not know it, but cherished by those who do."                      ~ Soren Kierkegaard

   My jaw was screaming.

   More specifically, the left side. Mouth propped open, with four adult sized hands fully engaged in a miniture construction zone in the nether regions of my mouth, I lay in pained silence. I tried to breathe, to take my mind elsewhere, briefly finding myself back in the tasteless Micheal Pitt film I hadn't finished watching the night before. Trying to focus on images of Micheal Pitt barely clothed, I managed to block the pain for a whole two seconds before it came screaming back with a vengence.