Assy Like Monday Morning


My cat has made a vicious, surreptitiously spiteful move. This morning I awoke, not to the classical music I usually rise to, but to easy listening, perfectly tuned in and completely miserable. I thought I had died in my sleep and awoke in hell--a hung-over, Monday morning, easy listening hell.

Easy listening is insulting. What is so difficult about music anyway, and why does a watered down shithole pop-song need to be made even more watered down? Who likes easy listening? Anyone?

My cat, apparently. In one of his 5am if-I-don't-eat-right-now-I'll-surely-die freakdowns, after knocking my book and glasses on the floor, pulling an infinite number of tissues from the box to be hastily shredded and then climbing on my head and chomping on my ear, he hit me where it hurts. He changed my radio station.

He's one smart asshole.

Did I mention I'm hungover? After band was cancelled yesterday, my other projects had been completed and my book hit a sloooow point, I found myself, amazingly, bored. Perfect opportunity to get shit-faced and play pool. Ouch.

I swear off alcohol, at least until Thursday...

In super cool news, a Vegas casino wired $1.4 million mistakenly to a CA man, who refuses to give it back. Hurrah!

And, thanks to the breaking news of Modern Drunkard Magazine, I'd like to warn you all that you can be arrested for being drunk. In a bar. Fucking hell.

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Betabitch, words & design, so play nice.