Here's the story:
I'm now starting to reap the benefits of getting paid a third less. I'm off until January 5th. Not on vacation, I just don't need to show up. Not contracted to work those days. But I'm fucking bored. I've been off work exactly four hours; drank three beers (by myself), talked to my mom on the phone (she called-just started a new, shitty job and needs someone to talk to about it. My dad's no help because he hates his job and takes every chance he gets to bitch about it), and read some Poe (Murders of the Rue Morgue).
Starting off a holiday boring. At this rate, I'll be going to work Monday just for something to do. My boss: "What the hell are you doing here?" Me: "Ran out of beer, watched all the good porn, need something to do."
Proof that the French (which compose a whole 16th of my genetic makeup) are fucked up: "Rue Morgue." "Mortuary Street." Who the fuck names a street "Mortuary Street?" Weird bastards. Although, the statue they gave us does kick ass.
We got some beer to drink and discussions to have.
Speaking of planes, I've decided to go to Europe this spring. Why not? It's only money. Figure I'll start with the United Kingdom, for two reasons:
1) I speak the language.
2) I know a Brit.
Fuckit. Time for a shower and some prescription pain killers.
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