Saturday, March 17, 2012

Take two Fuckitol and call me in the morning

Have you ever had a week where someone knocks your brick mailbox into the street so you have to pick your mail up at the post office then you cut your lip and it won't stop bleeding and it looks like you cut yourself shaving but you have to go to work anyway and you're attacked by a rogue cabinet door and now you have a goose egg on your white, hairy, scaly leg and you have to show your boss and beg her not to file an accident report in case they have to take a picture and then the brakes go out on your car and you get turned down for a loan to fix them so you go around for days with brakes that sound like dementors being tortured by demonic seals and everyone stares as you stop at lights? Oh, wait. That was only three days, not a week. Where's the gin?


  1. Legal or at least cheaper.

  2. I always thought it was a great anti-psychotic. For medical use only, of course.