October 05, 2007
Originally published July 22, 2002
I found myself running dangerously low on cigarettes this morning, so
I still haven't decided about the golf clubs. I probably ought to take them even if I don't go play-- it's better to HAVE them and not WANT them than to WANT them and not HAVE them.
They're kinda like a woman that way.
We don't need to leave until about 2:00, so I have some time to kill. I really should mow my grass (grass, hell-- I oughta cut the fricking WEEDS) but it's already 10,005 degrees outside with 150% humidity and that grass-cutting crap sounds far to much like work for a man on vacation to do. I am certain that I can find a reasonable excuse not to crank up the old lawn mower ("I DON'T FUCKING WANNA!" .... okay, sounds reasonable to me-- ed)
Yeah, I believe I'll just empty the trash cans, haul my $100 "Curb Caddy" out to the edge of the road so it'll be there for the Wednesday pickup, wipe my sweaty brow, throw in the towel and declare my work complete for the next four days. Plan your work, then work your plan. That's me.
And I plan to work seriously on my suntan.
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