Hold down the fort fellas! As of tomorrow (today) I will be partying in Nebraska for my grandmother's 90th. It's actually a late celebration for her this year. Her birthday is in March two days before mine 52 years ahead of me. I can't wait to see her and all the relatives. My mom keeps telling me that "this will probably be the last time you see her", but she's been saying that for years. Grandma is rockin' and rollin', laughin and having a good time in her latter years and I really don't see any signs of her ready to quit just yet.
Until she see's how I got my ass kicked by the clippers this time around. Whoops!
Note to self: Wait until sober before grabbing clippers. Oh man. I even paid for a haircut on Friday knowing that I was going to my favorite nephew's Baptism. I kept the mohawk/rooster thing going since early February when my buddy Z cut it for me. I wanted to show up to the church with the 'hawk rollin' to crack him up. I couldn't get it to work for me so I just slicked it back and glued it down. When I got home last night I decided that I should keep the length of hair but cut off the rooster. The only problem was that I was in such a stupor that I forgot to put the guard on the damn clippers. After the first swipe I knew right away that I fucked up. After that, there was no turning back. I had to do the whole mellon. Damn. This is the shortest it's ever been. It feels like fucking velcro!
I can't wait to see the expression on Grandma's face when I take off my cap...
I won't have access to a compooter where I'm gonna be, and if I did, I would probably throw it in the water for an anchor. I'm gonna drink a shitload of beer (twice as much because it's 3.0 beer in NE...pussies...) play lots of Cribbage and Risk, party with Grandma, and hopefully kick some Nebraska fish ass! Catch y'all on Sunday.
Oh yeah, and fuck you Pelosi you ignorant bitch!