Welp. I’m back in the manic phase of the cycle, and loving it all to death. I have to get new business cards and everything.
You can add “Award Winning” to my resume, right alongside, “Industry Insider” and “GSE Certificate Holder” and probably right above “Noted Hermaphrodite”.
It’s true what they say. It’s always darkest just before you black out. Which is what I did last night after drinking away my sorrow at not being nominated for the Hog-o Awards. (Seriously, have you see the kind of people who win those? They have event horizons.) Then when you wake up, kick away the empty wine cooler bottles, crawl out form behind the toilet, and clean up, smoke a cigarette, check to make sure the hooker past out in the hotel room is still breathing. (That’s a big yes. This time. So the day started out pretty good. She didn’t wake up when I took back my cash, nor when I took her dentures out of the glass – I know a guy that’ll take ’em off my hands.)
So then I get home, and check social media and check this out:
The Mixed GM is hot stuff, and discriminating, and handsome. And this award even comes with hookers and blackjack, and I’ll bet a classy outfit like he runs even offers courtesy morning breath checks.
I’m telling you, I’m shoving this right in my Parole Officer’s fat face tomorrow. I’ll show him who’ll never amount to anything. It turns out it’s him, and not me!
So I’ve got that going for me.