Your cocktail sir,





2003-03-18 - 9:13 a.m.

I was sitting at the diner near work this morning nursing my hangover with some bacon and eggs and thinking, I have no desire to go to work. I came anyway because I had done the full set-up for missing the day due to excess drinking. And while I did follow through with the plan for excessive drinking, I decided that I might as well come into work today. Itís like being martyred.

The topic on the mind of my fellow trenchermen was the impending war with Iraq. There seemed to be mixed feelings and a sort of impromptu discussion was going on, aided by the servers and the louder voiced patrons. I managed to avoid all of the hullabaloo concerning the ultimatum and what we said and the responses and what else is being retagged ďfreedomĒ. One could still order Russian dressing during the cold war, so why do I have to order freedom toast? It sounds stupid. Just stick an American toothpick flag in it or something. Label the syrup with German markings and let those who wish pretend that means something. Although who would be able to make a stand against a marauding horde of maple goodness? I certainly couldnít.

And so I arrived here at work, trying to maintain my ignorance of the pending war effort. Which is short sighted and naÔve of me, Iíll admit. Itís probably un-American as well.

Perhaps Iíll move to Canada. Learn to play hockey. And eat gravy on my freedom fries.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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