Oh man internet, it feels so good to have finally gotten some sleep. Granted, it took most of a twelve pack, some marathon love making, and six hours of Band Hero (so what if I do a mean Taylor Swift impression? I HAVE NEEDS TOO OKAY). All that matters is that for a little over eleven hours I slept the sleep of the narcoleptic. Except, instead of still being full clothed and behind the wheel of a Greyhound bus i was in my own bed and drooling all over the remarkably absorbent Tempurpedic pillow I stole received as a gift from an ex-girlfriend.
The hearty dinner of spicy black bean and corn chowder I’d made and devoured a few hours before didn’t hurt either. The secret ingredients of which are both love and chugging Miller High Life between adding every other ingredient. Okay, maybe one of those ingredients was just for me. It still did the trick and we ate like kings. Kings who would much later be rioting in a Wal-Mart bathroom and cursing about organic foods through the stall walls. Can you tell I love making poop jokes? They are my bread and butter.
And now I’m sitting here with a sleep hangover and trying to figure out what I’m going to make for dinner tonight. Unfortunately we don’t have much in our kitchen in the way of real food, though if you’d care for a can of tuna or three hundred, we’re your best bet on the west coast. Alright, I will concede that tuna does constitute “a real food”, but I’m trying to stick to a vegetarian diet and the last time I checked tuna isn’t a vegetable at all. I would normally make a joke about Tuna Schiavo at this point, but that’s a pretty dated reference don’t you think?
Probably I’ll just wind up coarsely chopping some baby carrots, mixing them into some hummus, and calling that dinner. Maybe if I’m really lucky I’ll be able to figure out a way to turn that into a hummus/carrot equivalent of a salmon patty. Or perhaps some sort of stuffed pepper can be arranged.
Wish me and my stomach luck.