Thor's Day




For some reason, Thor's Day has become a drinking day.

A mini celebration of/by your fucking self day.

And I don't know why.

And if you've got a reason, post it here.

But right now, my only reason is ritual.

So cheers. :)

Comments

V said…
Yes, now. Yes, alone. Vodka + Diet Duo, if you must know. :)
11:57 PM
Lance Manion said…
I used to use the logic that it's Friday somewhere to justify drinking whenever. Then some asshole explained the international dateline to me. Now I do it because the voices say it's okay.
9:34 AM
Amandarama said…
If I have to come up with reason to justify why I'm drinking on a particular day, it's just going to take away from actual time that I could be drinking. And that's just not going to fly.
10:51 PM
V said…
Dude, Amanda, sometime we should hang out.
10:53 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Shredding, Slamming Fun

Image
Yeah, I'm closer to 40 than 14, but that doesn't mean I can't pretend to be in that band I always wanted to be in. And no, I can't play the guitar for real, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the tar out of this game. In fact, that's the whole POINT. The second version of this Playstation 2 diversion, called Guitar Hero as you can see here, just came out, but I'm too busy woodshedding on a borrowed version of the first one to care about that yet. At first, I sucked so thoroughly the game kicked me out of the song and the crowd booed. Yet now, I can successfully hit 80-96% of the notes on average of tunes ranging from Boston's "More Than A Feeling" to Audioslave's "Cochise." The cool thing is, songs you don't even like much and dismiss as crap, you get new respect for when you try to play them. You also learn how Nikki Sixx must have felt when his fingers and forearms ached from the amount of rockin' he was doing, but...
Read more

Pigpen's Cloud: A Tale of Mixed Metaphors

Image
Because I attend an exclusive, prestigious, private university for graduate school, I stumble along amongst long shadows stretching along the Serengeti marble halls. Rich, thin, shiny, pretty women meander past me by on their slender, Nordic, giraffean legs, and I am as a squat chimpanzee in their midst -- clever, amusing, far more able to use tools, yet not half as majestic. Sometimes, in classes, we interact. I feel as if I travel in Pigpen's cloud, for my nails are clipped and short, and tiny continents with chipping borders appear on each finger, instead of glossy, manicured, monochromatic squares. My hair, unfashionably frizzy, is self-cut and a few weeks overdue for a $7 color out of a Garnier box. My $12 shoes have about breathed their last, as I shift about the desk in my Wal-Mart pants. Still, maybe opposable thumbs and the ability to throw verbal poo at their mystification at crazy tables-full of statistics is worth being grotty. Sometimes. ----------------- I can't d...
Read more

Two Years

Two years I've been writing this. Two years. Most of you and I have known each other for most of that span. Why is it so hard to believe, the constant flow of time? -------------------------------- Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems -- but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems incredible. -- Salman Rushdie
Read more