I'll spare you the whole "I've been wanting to start a blog again for awhile" crap, and I'll politely skip the events surrounding my life that may require some sort of outlet before I explode and leave someone covered in brain bits. That of course would insinuate I believe that my life was remotely interesting, dramatic, and worth writing about (THIS BITCH IS CA-RAY-ZEE!!!), because honestly, it probably isn't.
The best I can hope for is that someone will find the at-some-point-when-i-get-around-to-it printed editions of my blogs and use them to write a eulogy of some questionable sort. I'm sure no one will know anything about the crazy lady in the nursing home with no friends, no family, and singing "you are my sunshine" to a bottle of jameson that's long since been empty. The crazy lady, that even in her indistinct babbles, appears to be using run-on sentences.
Some things that should be said:
I bartend four days a week, and wait tables elsewhere another 3 or 4. These are called The Bar and Pizza Joint, respectively. If you figure you know where these places are, good for you. These jobs take up the majority of my time, but hey, things could be worse. I generally can drink on the job and work with people I love. I think it's a win. I live in an apartment I can't afford, with a car I can't really afford either. I drink Jameson and PBR but I'm not a hipster. I simply enjoy the subtle burn of irish whiskey and beer that many thought to be extinct. I forget to capitalize the word "i" unless the spellcheck does it for me, and I speak/type local slang like it's the Queen's English.
I think that's all the introduction I need. Cheers.
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