Slacky McSlackalot

I know, I know…You can call me Slacky McSlackalot. I don’t care. Things have been happening. (Not really things that would prevent me from blogging, but not really things that would inspire me to do so either.) So, as a payback to the loyal readers (all one of you) I am going to go ahead and list some mundane happenings in the world of Criz. And maybe some useless factoids.

I spent last weekend running around like a madwoman (a drunk one, of course) trying to make it to all kinds of stuff and actually making it to approximately 12% of these events.

Friday night, I was supposed to be at a work happy hour thing…again. But given the fact that I had “volunteered” (can you call it volunteering when you are sort of backed up against a wall by your boss?) to serve margaritas and such at the department picnic the next day, I didn’t really feel like spending more time with my coworkers. So, I skipped that and ended up with JGJ and some large beers at E-Street followed by many smaller beers and a megatouch marathon (in which I kicked ASS at TriTowers…yeah. I effing rock).

Saturday was the day of the picnic. JGJ and I rolled up at around 4:30, ready to get people drunk but to my surprise, even the laziest of our employees can pull the lever and fill up their own cups with slushy green alcoholic goodness! Who knew!? And you know what that means! Less serving and more getting drunk! The picnic was over at 7, but there were stragglers and shots of tequila and some getting hit on by the DJ but by 8:30 we were good and tipsy. So we decided to steal things. Among items stolen were: Two chicken breasts, two hotdogs, a hamburger, a bottle of tequila, two bags of buns, and a pineapple. I could have fed a small army, but instead we fed ourselves and Pookie in the driveway of KB’s house where we were meeting up to go to a party. A party of a brother of someone that I don’t know. At least…I think that is how the story went.

Either way, we ended up in Riverside with KB and Pookie. About 20 miles away from the party and about 3 shots too far into the evening (at 10:30) to be doing any more driving. So…as far as I can recall, KB and Pookie went to a party of a brother of someone whom I don’t know. And JGJ and I snored a lot.

The rest of the week has been kind of unremarkable aside from “The Great Breakdown” which involved Etta (the truck that JGJ bought right before he moved to Orlando) and my Monday morning drive to St. Augustine. For anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have rushed out of the house and all that way, but I couldn’t leave JGJ stranded. I wouldn’t want to risk having him picked up by some horny cross-dressing trucker (like the one on that episode of COPS…don’t act like you haven’t seen it) and then never seeing him again. So…crisis averted. JGJ is safe at home in Orlando (having promised my boss a carwash for not killing me for coming in late) and was not abducted by cross-dressing truckers.

Other than that, not much has been going on aside from fueling my addictions to Nip/Tuck and Grey’s Anatomy. I have spent the last couple of days in meetings. And then spending the rest of my time at work playing catch-up because I have been elsewhere. It’s been a blast. (This is a total lie.) BUT, I did get to attend the conference within my department where the docs decide who gets new parts and who doesn’t. And that may not SOUND like a good time, but let me tell ya, that shit was so cool! The fact that I liked it so much may or may not have had something to do with the Hot Surgeon who sat directly across the room from me and kept making faces at me throughout. I mean, how often do I get to sit in a room with HIM for two hours? Never. So there. I am volunteering to attend every week. Because I am super interested in hot sur---ahem…transplantation.

Yeah, I heart transplantation.

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