Even this shall pass away

Have you guys heard the new Robert Plant?

(Paulette- your Ironweed project is getting burned tommorow, mailed Monday. Would you like this, too?)



I cannot even begin to communicate honestly in this venue.

But I can summarize.

My friend, Quagmire, flew in on Super Bowl Sunday. My dad went to the Super Bowl, offered me a ticket, I said no, had things to tend to here. My friend is flying in.

My dad went, me and Quagmire watched it at my house and had a serious manhug.

Stanette had cooked a really nice meal.

That night, it snowed a SHITLOAD.

We rode on Monday, it was superduperbadass. Knee-high pow, hitting you in the face with every turn. I wiped out getting out of the hot tub, twisted my ankle and skidded into a metal coat rack, upon which we hang the bathrobes, and gouge my ankle.

It looked like a murder scene. For a bit, we thought I may have hit an artery. Quagmire is a doctor, so he grabbed my foot and capped that gusher.

Yikes.

So, I go to work, make some money, talk to my therapist, come home, eat a nice dinner that Stanette made, check my work email...

And lo and behold, there is an email from accounting, telling me I need to write a check for $ 7690 because they fucked up my withholding.

$ 7690.

Could you just bust out a check with no notice for $ 7690?

Needless to say, I did not go to work today.

That is bullshit.

I went snowboarding.

Working for corporate America sucks.