Let me share with you how busy I've been lately.
I started reading a book 3 days ago. I'm on page 30.
What the hell?
It's the Christmas season, I suppose. I guess we're supposed to be busy this time of year.
Plus, we're planning this gigantic surprise party for my mom's birthday. It's this Friday. I can't believe it's finally here since it's been in the works since the summer.
My best friend has been doing most of the hard work. She's one of those people who are super organized and very detail-oriented. She's also got a spotless house. Oh, how I hate her.
Of course several years ago when I was drunk on the floor of her bathroom, vomiting every two seconds, I was praising her cleanliness!
Lon had invited a few of us over to her house for games, pool, drinks, etc.
I had just suffered a break-up so I used an entire bottle of Jack Daniels to soothe my wounded spirit.
It started with a little Jack mixed with some Coke. Then I graduated to shots of Jack. Then I decided to skip the middle man and stuck a freakin straw in the bottle and sucked it dry.
Lon was out of liquor but luckily some friends brought beer.
I opened a bottle, took a few drinks and...well....I was running to the bathroom.
That was the first time I had ever been drunk enough to be sick. That was also the first time that I have no memory of certain events. However, I do remember laying on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, thanking God that Lon was such a clean freak.
My head was cradling the base of the toilet and there wasn't a speck of dirt, hair, dust...nothing.
I could have eaten off that floor if I wasn't hurling up the contents of my stomach.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this story. I guess the moral of the story is: If you're going to worship the porcelain god, do it at Lon's house.