can i get a mulligan on my weekend please?

Fuck. Fuck. Let's proceed in order of immediacy.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

My beautiful eye! Fuckfuckfuck!

So, there I was. Tweezers in hand. Some mysterious fumble caused them to fly out of my hand and directly into my left eye. Cue lots of panicked running, attempts at looking in the mirror with my one good eye at what the fuck was wrong - oh wow, this is the worst thing that's ever happened, to think my new plaything was just commenting on how hot my eyes were (finally, someone notices their tragic beauty!) and now I'll have to halve my appeal with a fashion accessary that is so painfully two years ago! Referring of course to the patch - trust me, if you were in Seattle in '04 you wouldn't want one either.

It was kind of hilarious driving with one eye squeezed shut with tears randomly falling out, deciding to smoke my last cigarette...did I mentioned I semi-sucessfully quit smoking? Coup on top of coup, I tell you. Anyway, it's a miracle no one died. And actually I finally look like a normal person again, the swelling and redness have pretty much gone the way of the saber-toothed tiger (I was getting a little attached to saying 'the way of the dodo,' time to fetishize a new extinction) but I still have a slight flutter happening in my left eye and there is stll one spot that's kind of red, like maybe I busted a vessell. Ewewewew, just thinking about it fucking grosses me out. Seeing people putting in their contacts makes me want to throw up. Such is my touch-of-the-eye-aversion.

Moving backward, this happened after I pissed away my entire weekend, dousing myself with nyquil in response to some mysterious throat problem. The Friendtor recently pointed out to me that this is a horrible thing to do and I should have just taken a bunch of vitamins and chilled out and not smoked/drank. I guess I didn't feel like I could handle quitting unless I was hardcore doped up - it was certainly easier to not smoke when I was unconscious for 14-16 hours a day.

But I didn't really like the idea of me not smoking yet. So after a surprisingly manageable 48 hours (thanks, nyquil!) I smoked five or six cigs yesterday, mostly out of necessity from watching my friend Beth chimney up in front of my very eyes. Basically, it's just like my approach to homework in college - I would start working on it in advance ever so slightly, pat myself heartily on the back and then get fucked up nonstop until 48-72 hours prior to actual deadline. This deadline is my 25th birthday, so I've still got some time together with my lil addiction. Though, it's too bad I'm not more of a badass - think of all the money I could be saving in the meantime!

Wrap it up, wrap it up...oh yeah, and I missed RJD2, that which incited a minor war o'words with one Kurt Wikel (oh yeah, I first and lasted the bitch, now when you google him it will lead straight into the psychological honeycomb that is this blog). Tear in my wineglass...I figured, why stop wasting my weekend now, why not take it all the way home? I don't think I even had any cool quil dreams. Wahwahwahwahwahwahwahwahwah.

That is mofucking all.

Who needs money anyway?