Bloggers In The Wild: The Sequel

Welcome to ZFS!... UP all night!!!

I'll be your host, Rhonda Shear, and if you actually get this reference, then you watched just as much smutty, "after hours" cable programming as I did back in the early 90's.

Good, masturbatory times, those.

Anyway, hi... I can't sleep. Not sure why; I haven't, say, eaten a fistful of Pixie Stix today, nor am I nervously anticipating any particular event tomorrow. No, it looks like good, old-fashioned insomnia (like our parents used to enjoy) has dropped by for a visit. He's settled in on my side of the bed next to my sleeping girlfriend and he's not planning on letting me get any rest, at least not any time soon. The selfish bastard. He knows I have to work tomorrow and, not to get personal or nothing, but he always farts up the sheets. He thinks the concept of "dutch ovens" were invented just for him, is all I'm saying.

So here I sit, listening to the rain and wishing that someone had some Valium that they could magically transmit to me over the internet. Barring that, I'd also accept a sharp blow with a hammer to the back of my skull. Anything, really, that'll knock me out right quick.

But, since that's probably not going to happen (Is anyone getting on that Valium request? Anyone???), I guess that I'll use this time to say a few words about the most recent Blogger Happy Hour that happened on this Tuesday past. Nothing fancy; no long, soliloquies like last time... quite frankly, the whole evening's a bit of a blur and, thus, I don't "technically" remember large portions of the events that transpired. So, with that in mind, here's what I wanted to say:

-First of all, and most importantly, it was really awesome to see everybody. I got to meet some of the people that make the comments section of ZFS! as fucking fantastic as it is, not to mention the fact that I got to see again some of the same group of kids that I'd met last time, and it was all in all just a swell occasion to be a part of. Not to get all group hug-y on everybody, but still... it was very nice.

-Secondly, um... the last portion of the evening is, as I mentioned, missing some pieces. Ease my guilty conscience: I behaved myself, right? I'd really hate to get to work tomorrow and find a cadre of lawyers waiting for me, legal documents at the ready, because I was untoward and "handsy" with, say, Midwesterner. Also, if I said something particularly witty or smart, please feel free to let me know. Or, actually, if you just want to tell me how wonderful I am, that'd be cool too. Can never have too much of that.

-Parenthetically, when did I become such a fucking lightweight? I really don't feel like I had that much to drink, and yet I have no recollection of the subway ride home. I was in the bar one minute, and the next I'm standing in the deli across the street from my house, ordering a sandwich and holding on to the counter like a sailor on the railing of a ship during a mighty gale. It's sickening, really, because I used to be such a wonderful drinker. Seriously, there's a bronze statue in Austin of me power-chugging a bottle of Jack Daniels. Every year, college freshmen gather around it, light some candles, and then reenact the toga party scene from Animal House. Now, though... a few pitchers of beer, one whisky and a couple of extra pints is all it takes to lay me low. Very, very sad.

-You also have my permission to write in and tell me how handsome you think I look in person.