Me Likey.

So I went out for some Christmas Cheer last night with the folks from work, and we ended up at a place where a pint of beer was THREE DOLLARS!!

I almost shit my pants!

“You mean three WHOLE dollars? Here – just take the fiver and go buy yourself something nice!”

I’ve discovered that me being up here is dangerous to my ever-expanding waistline. And likely my heart. I mean, three dollar beer? Come on. Mix in the copious amounts of rum I’ve been drinking…oh fine, add in the gin and the wine too, since we’re being honest…and you’ve got yourself a cornucopia of booze in my belly. My belly jiggles like a bowl full of jelly. Jelly in my belly. Jelly Belly. That’s me.

So anyways, do you know how hard it is not to get smash-faced drunk in front of your new boss with THREE DOLLAR beers? Very. Very, very difficult. But I did it. I had three then went home. And no, three beers do not a drunk RedKap make. I’ve had practice. A LOT of practice.

I found out afterward that everyone else did stay – including my boss. And let’s just say there are some headaches walking around the office today.

Damn! I feel so left out! Next time it’s headache or bust.

I love the north.