I'm not dead yet. Despite trying to throw my body into some sort of alcohol induced coma, the old ticker keeps ticking. I did manage to sober up for a day or two last week and I've even managed to conduct a tiny bit of business (gotta make money for booze, after all).
I am currently planning on fleeing the state in order to continue my bender. So of course I will be attending the Pepsi 400 at the lovely Daytona International Speedway. I will be taking good old Cowboy Dan with me as it seems like I'm unable to bring forth a good puke-inducing-booze-related drunken rambling without her. Plus, I usually make her drink a 12 pack on the drive down to Daytona merely for my amusement - and trust me, it's amusing.
We will be meeting Kitty at the track and she drives her 38 foot motor coach up for our recreational pleasure. Yes, the motor coach is Kitty's - I told you the only thing keeping her from being a guy is the penis.
Anyhoooooo, I'll try to fill you in a little more later but for now I'm off to meet some new client who is so foreign that I can't understand a single word he says over the phone. Hopefully, I'll develop the ability to read lips in the next 10 minutes and I'll be able to comprehend what kind of help this fella needs. But frankly, who are we kidding - between my non-existent-been-drinking-for-two-weeks voice and his innate foreigness - we're screwed.