Your cocktail sir,

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2002-09-08 - 9:57 p.m.

Well, I didnít do laundry.

Oh well. I also didnít get to go home with a nubile member of the wait staff for the cocktail party. Mainly because they were old and bitter. But I got to chat with people that I have not seen in years, and people that hadnít seen me since I was allowed to sit at the big table at family functions. And someone brought Jell-O shots. Which was the coolest thing ever. Showing up a fancy schmancy party with Micky Mouse cups full of vodka and cranberry Jell-O. I was very impressed. Because I wouldnít have been brave enough.

I wasnít well enough to drive home. So I crashed with the rest of my family at my Auntís house. All the alcohol that Iíve imbibed recently is starting to concern me. And while I didnít have any cigs last night, I did have a very excellent cigar. Which is just as bad. Iím going to be one of those bitter, chain smoking barflyís that leer at the girls. By next year. At least it will give me a husky, phlegmatic voice. I could live with that. My current tonal range goes from Gidget to Gidget on helium. But such is my curse. Along with freakishly square feet.

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